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(Page  92) 


Tom  Browns 
School^Days 

By  an  Old  Boy 

(Thomas  Hughes ) 


Edited  by  H.C.Bradby,  B.A. 

<.Asststant,^asteir  atSiugby  School 

Illustrated  by 
Hu^h  Thomson 


Ginn  and  Company 

Boston  -  New  York  —  Chicago  -  London 
Atlanta -Dallas  -  Columbus  -"  San  Francisco 


72424 


.         .,.*..       .•t«  Cr\t^-i         ••,«  •  •  '  •  ••         •«« 


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COPYRIGHT,  1918,  BV  GIXN  AM)  COMPANY 
ALL   RIGHTS   RESERVED 

323-12 


tClie   atftenacnm   ^regg 

GINX  AND  COMPANY-  PRO- 
PRIETORS •  BOSTON  •  U  S.A. 


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PREFACE 


NVER  since  1857,  when  it  first  appeared,  'Tom  Brown's 
H  School-Days '  has  maintained  its  position  by  uni- 
• ^  versal  consent  as  the  best  of  school  stories,  and  it 


still  enjoys  a  wide  popularity  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic. 
Gratifying  as   this   must  be   to  a   Rugbeian   proud   of   the 
')'     fame  of  his  school,  it  may  seem  at  first  sight  a  little  sur- 
^    prising.    The  book  contains  so  much  local  colour,  and  the 
n\vo  conditions  of  school  fife  under  which  its  readers  are  brought 
up  are  so  different  from  those  described  in  it,  that  it  might 
be  expected  to  appeal  less  strongly  to  this  generation  than 
to  the  one  for  which  it  was  written, 
y^       The  truth  is  that  the  book  continues  to  live,  in  spite  of 
^     the  fact  that  its  setting  must  seem  strange  to  many  of  its 
readers,  because  of  the  sympathy  and  insight  with  which 
the   author  paints   the  unchanging  characteristics  of  boys. 
Conditions  change,   and  the  ways   in  which  characteristics 
show  themselves  alter ;   but  the  types  remain.    Bullying  of 
the   kind   described    has    passed    away,   but  there    are   still 
Flashmans  to  be  found,  both  in  schools  and  in  the  outer 
world.    A  detailed   organization  and  a  stricter  supervision, 
compulsory  games,    military  training   corps,    and    regulated 
societies  for  the  pursuit  of  natural  history  and  other  sub- 
jects have  robbed   school  life  of  much  of  the  opportunity 
for  enterprise  and  initiative,  both  good  and  bad,  wnich'*'was 
afforded  in  less  methodical  times ;   but  the  enthusiast  like 

[V] 


TOa!    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 
•    •■A 
Martin,  the  enterprising  rebel  like  East,  the  sturdy  jolly  boy 

like  Tom  Brown  himself,  are  still  familiar  types.  It  is  this 
sympathy  with  and  insight  into  the  point  of  view  of  boys 
which  gives  the  book,  like  all  books  which  show  a  real  ap- 
preciation of  human  nature,  a  permanent  interest  and  value. 

And  if  the  conditions  of  school  life  have  altered,  and 
many  of  the  scenes  in  the  book,  such  as  the  roasting  of  the 
hero  and  the  great  fight,  no  longer  recall  similar  experiences 
to  the  mind  of  the  reader,  yet  the  book  has  an  enormous 
advantage  over  its  successors  in  the  very  fact  that  the  school 
life  of  the  time  was  much  more  picturesque  and  full  of 
variety  than  the  highly  organized  life  with  which  the  modern 
author  must  Seal.  The  struggle  against  the  bully  Flashman, 
the  great  fight,  the  quarrel  with  '  Velveteens, '  are  perhaps 
among  the  most  interesting  episodes  of  all.  And  besides 
that,  in  the  scenes  which  have  become  an  inevitable  part  of 
any  school  story, —  the  football  and  the  cricket  match,  the 
run,  the  scene  in  'form,' — Hughes  has  the  great  advantage 
of  being  first  in  the  field.  The  modern  writer  cannot  dis- 
pense with  these  incidents,  for  they  provide  the  dramatic 
moments  of  school  life;  but  all  the  time  he  must  feel  that 
it  has  been  done  before  and  that  he  is  inviting  comparison. 

For  the  description  of  the  school  life  of  his  day  Tom 
Hughes  was  singularly  fitted.  Eager,  loyal,  sympathetic,  in- 
tensely interested  in  life,  devoted  to  the  great  headmaster 
who  had  done  so  much  for  him,  for  Rugby,  and  for  public 
schools  in  general,  he  threw  his  whole  heart  into  the  work, 
and  all  unconsciously  raised  for  himself  an  abiding  monu- 
ment. The  modern  boy  may  think  that  in  places  he  points 
the  moral  at  unnecessary'  length.  It  was  the  fashion  of  his 
time,  when  the  earnest  author  perhaps  gave  the  reader  too 

[Vi] 


PREFACE 

little  credit  for  being  able  to  draw  the  moral  for  himself. 
But  the  most  captious  critic  will  feel  nothing  but  admiration 
for  the  life  and  vigour  and  true  dramatic  instinct  with  which 
in  his  simple  colloquial  style  he  brings  on  his  stage  the  suc- 
cessive scenes  of  school  life  at  Rugby  in  'the  thirties.'  It 
is  a  significant  fact  that  to  him  alone  amongst  the  many 
distinguished  sons  of  the  school  has  a  statue  been  erected. 
It  stands  in  front  of  the  school  museum  and  is  the  record 
of  a  feeling  which  was  most  happily  expressed  by  an  old 
Rugbeian  at  the  unveiling  of  the  statue,  when  he  spoke  of 
Hughes  as  'the  incarnation  of  the  highest  form  of  the  British 
schoolboy,  the  best  type  of  the  character  of  the  school  which 
moulded  him.' 

I  have  endeavoured  to  explain  in  the  notes  any  allusions 
and  words  that  are  likely  to  puzzle  a  young  reader.  He  will 
not,  I  hope,  interrupt  the  thread  of  the  story  by  referring  to 
the  notes  page  by  page.  Let  him  enjoy  the  chapter  first 
and  then  turn  to  the  notes,  which  are  placed  discreetly  at  the 
end  of  the  volume  to  help  him  to  understand  anything  that 
he  may  have  found  obscure. 

The  publishers  have  followed  the  spelling  and  style  of 
quotation  marks  used  in  the  original  text,  in  order  to 
preserve  its  character  in  this  new  edition. 

H.  C.  BRADBY 


L  V"  ] 


TO 

MRS.    ARNOLD 

OF  FOX   HOWE 

THIS   BOOK   IS   (WITHOUT   HER  PERMISSION) 

DEDICATED 

BY   THE   AUTHOR 

WHO   OWES  MORE   THAN   HE   CAN   EVER  ACKNOWLEDGE 

OR   FORGET  TO   HER  AND   HERS 


CONTENTS 

PART  I 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.   The  Brown  Family 3 

II.    The  'Veast' 23 

III.  Sundry  Wars  and  Alliances 48 

IV.  The  Stage  Coach 74 

V.   Rugby  and  Football 94 

VI.   After  the  Match 126 

VII.    Settling  to  the  Collar 154 

VIII.    The  War  of  Independence 184 

IX.   A  Chapter  of  Accidents 211 

PART  II 

I.    How  the  Tide  Turned 241 

II.   The  New  Boy 259 

III.  Arthur  makes  a  Friend 276 

IV.  The  Bird-Fanciers 294 

V.   The  Fight 311 

VI.    Fever  in  the  School 335 

VII.    Harry  East's  Dilemmas  and  Deliverances    .     .     .  356 

VIII.   Tom  Brown's  Last  Match 375 

IX.    Finis 4^3 

NOTES 413 


[xi] 


TOM   BROWN'S  SCHOOL-DAYS 


mwny  Shhool. 
o     ,  iw 

'I'm  the  Poet  of  White  Horse  Vale,  Sir^ 
With  liberal  notions  under  my  cap.' 

Ballad 


HE  Browns  have  become  illustrious  by 
the  pen  of  Thackeray  and  the  pencil  of 
Doyle,  within  the  memory  of  the  young 
gentlemen  who  are  now  matriculating  at 
the  Universities.  Notwithstanding  the 
well-merited  but  late  fame  which  has 
now  fallen  upon  them,  any  one  at  all  acquainted  with  the 
family  must  feel  that  much  has  yet  to  be  written  and  said 
before  the  British  nation  will  be  properly  sensible  of  how 
much  of  its  greatness  it  owes  to  the  Browns.  For  centu- 
ries, in  their  quiet,  dogged,  homespun  way,  they  have  been 

[3] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

subduing  the  earth  in  most  English  counties,  and  leaving 
their  mark  in  American  forests  and  Australian  uplands. 
Wherever  the  fleets  and  armies  of  England  have  won 
renown,  there  stalwart  sons  of  the  Browns  have  done  yeo- 
men's work.  With  the  yew  bow  and  cloth-yard  shaft  at 
Cressy  and  Agincourt  —  with  the  brown  bill  and  pike  under 
the  brave  Lord  Willoughby — with  culverin  and  demi-culverin 
against  Spaniards  and  Dutchmen  —  with  hand-grenade  and 
sabre,  and  musket  and  bayonet,  under  Rodney  and  St.  Vin- 
cent, Wolfe  and  Moore,  Nelson  and  Wellington,  they  have 
carried  their  lives  in  their  hands  ;  getting  hard  knocks  and 
hard  work  in  plenty,  which  was  on  the  whole  what  they 
looked  for,  and  the  best  thing  for  them  ;  and  little  praise 
or  pudding,  which  indeed  they,  and  most  of  us,  are  better 
without..  Talbots  and  Stanleys,  St.  Maurs,  and  suchlike 
folk,  have  led  armies  and  made  laws  time  out  of  mind  ;  but 
those  noble  families  would  be  somewhat  astounded  —  if  the 
accounts  ever  came  to  be  fairly  taken  —  to  find  how  small 
their  work  for  England  has  been  by  the  side  of  that  of 
the  Browns. 

These  latter,  indeed,  have  until  the  present  generation 
rarely  been  sung  by  poet,  or  chronicled  by  sage.  They  have 
wanted  their  '  sacer  vates,'  having  been  too  solid  to  rise  to 
the  top  by  themselves,  and  not  having  been  largely  gifted 
with  the  talent  of  catching  hold  of,  and  holding  on  tight 
to,  whatever  good  things  happened  to  be  going,  —  the  foun- 
dation of  the  fortunes  of  so  many  noble  families.  But  the 
world  goes  on  its  way,  and  the  wheel  turns,  and  the  wrongs 
of  the  Browns,  like  other  wrongs,  seem  in  a  fair  way  to  get 
righted.  And  this  present  writer  having  for  many  years  of 
his    life    been  a   devout    Brown-worshipper,   and    moreover 

[4] 


THE    BROWN    FAMILY 

having  the  honour  of  being  nearly  connected  with  an  emi- 
nently respectable  branch  of  the  great  Brown  family,  is 
anxious,  so  far  as  in  him  lies,  to  help  the  wheel  over,  and 
throw  his  stone  on  to  the  pile. 

However,  gentle  reader,  or  simple  reader,  whichever  you 
may  be,  lest  you  should  be  led  to  waste  your  precious  time 
upon  these  pages,  I  make  so  bold  as  at  once  to  tell  you  the 
sort  of  folk  you  '11  have  to  meet  and  put  up  with,  if  you  and 
I  are  to  jog  on  comfortably  together.  You  shall  hear  at 
once  what  sort  of  folk  the  Browns  are,  at  least  my  branch 
of  them  ;  and  then  if  you  don't  like  the  sort,  why  cut  the 
concern  at  once,  and  let  you  and  me  cry  quits  before  either 
of  us  can  grumble  at  the  other. 

In  the  first  place,  the  Browns  are  a  fighting  family.  One 
may  question  their  wisdom,  or  wit,  or  beauty,  but  about  their 
fight  there  can  be  no  question.  Wherever  hard  knocks  of 
any  kind,  visible  or  invisible,  are  going,  there  the  Brown 
who  is  nearest  must  shove  in  his  carcass.  And  these  car- 
casses for  the  most  part  answer  very  well  to  the  character- 
istic propensity  ;  they  are  a  square-headed  and  snake-necked 
generation,  broad  in  the  shoulder,  deep  in  the  chest,  and 
thin  in  the  flank,  carrying  no  lumber.  Then  for  clanship, 
they  are  as  bad  as  Highlanders  ;  it  is  amazing  the  belief 
they  have  in  one  another.  With  them  there  is  nothing  like 
the  Browns,  to  the  third  and  fourth  generation.  '  Blood  is 
thicker  than  water,'  is  one  of  their  pet  sayings.  They 
can't  be  happy  unless  they  are  always  meeting  one  another. 
Never  were  such  people  for  family  gatherings,  which,  were 
you  a  stranger,  or  sensitive,  you  might  think  had  better  not 
have  been  gathered  together.  For  during  the  whole  time 
of  their  being  together  they  luxuriate  in  telling  one  another 

[5] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

their  minds  on  whatever  subject  turns  up  ;  and  their  minds 
are  wonderfully  antagonistic,  and  all  their  opinions  are  down- 
right beliefs.  Till  you  've  been  among  them  some  time  and 
understand  them,  you  can't  think  but  that  they  are  quarrel- 
ling. Not  a  bit  of  it ;  they  love  and  respect  one  another 
ten  times  the  more  after  a  good  set  family  arguing  bout,  and 
go  back,  one  to  his  curacy,  another  to  his  chambers,  and 
another  to  his  regiment,  freshened  for  work,  and  more  than 
ever  convinced  that  the  Browns  are  the  height  of  company. 

This  family  training,  too,  combined  with  their  turn  for 
combativeness,  makes  them  eminently  quixotic.  They  can't 
let  anything  alone  which  they  think  going  wrong.  They 
must  speak  their  mind  about  it,  annoying  all  easy-going  folk  ; 
and  spend  their  time  and  money  in  having  a  tinker  at  it, 
however  hopeless  the  job.  It  is  an  impossibility  to  a  Brown 
to  leave  the  most  disreputable  lame  dog  on  the  other  side 
of  a  stile.  Most  other  folk  get  tired  of  such  work.  The  old 
Browns,  with  red  faces,  white  whiskers,  and  bald  heads,  go 
on  believing  and  fighting  to  a  green  old  age.  They  have 
always  a  crotchet  going,  till  the  old  man  with  the  scythe  reaps 
and  garners  them  away  for  troublesome  old  boys  as  they  are. 

And  the  most  provoking  thing  is,  that  no  failures  knock 
them  up,  or  make  them  hold  their  hands,  or  think  you,  or 
me,  or  other  sane  people  in  the  right.  Failures  slide  off  them 
like  July  rain  off  a  duck's  back  feathers.  Jem  and  his  whole 
family  turn  out  bad,  and  cheat  them  one  week,  and  the  next 
they  are  doing  the  same  thing  for  Jack  ;  and  when  he  goes 
to  the  treadmill,  and  his  wife  and  children  to  the  workhouse, 
they  will  be  on  the  look  out  for  Bill  to  take  his  place. 

However,  it  is  time  for  us  to  get  from  the  general  to  the 
particular ;   so,  leaving  the  great  army  of  Browns,  who  are 

[6] 


THE   VALE    OF    WHITE    HORSE 

scattered  over  the  whole  empire  on  which  the  sun  never 
sets,  and  whose  general  diffusion  I  take  to  be  the  chief 
cause  of  that  empire's  stability,  let  us  at  once  fix  our  atten- 
tion upon  the  small  nest  of  Browns  in  which  our  hero  was 
hatched,  and  which  dwelt  in  that  portion  of  the  Royal  county 
of  Berks  which  is  called  the  Vale  of  White  Horse. 

Most  of  you  have  probably  travelled  down  the  Great 
Western  Railway  as  far  as  Swindon.  Those  of  you  who 
did  so  with  your  eyes  open,  have  been  aware,  soon  after 
leaving  the  Didcot  station,  of  a  fine  range  of  chalk  hills 
running  parallel  with  the  railway  on  the  left-hand  side  as 
you  go  down,  and  distant  some  two  or  three  miles,  more  or 
less,  from  the  line.  The  highest  point  in  the  range  is  the 
White  Horse  Hill,  which  you  come  in  front  of  just  before 
you  stop  at  the  Shrivenham  station.  If  you  love  English 
scenery  and  have  a  few  hours  to  spare,  you  can't  do  better, 
the  next  time  you  pass,  than  stop  at  the  Farringdon-road  or 
Shrivenham  station,  and  make  your  way  to  that  highest 
point.  And  those  who  care  for  the  vague  old  stories  that 
haunt  country-sides  all  about  England,  will  not,  if  they  are 
wise,  be  content  with  only  a  few  hours'  stay  :  for,  glorious 
as  the  view  is,  the  neighbourhood  is  yet  more  interesting 
for  its  relics  of  bygone  times.  I  only  know  two  English 
neighbourhoods  thoroughly,  and  in  each,  within  a  circle  of 
five  miles,  there  is  enough  of  interest  and  beauty  to  last 
any  reasonable  man  his  life.  I  believe  this  to  be  the  case 
almost  throughout  the  country,  but  each  has  a  special  attrac- 
tion, and  none  can  be  richer  than  the  one  I  am  speaking 
of  and  going  to  introduce  you  to  very  particularly  ;  for  on 
this  subject  I  must  be  prosy  ;  so  those  that  don't  care  for 
England  in  detail  may  skip  the  chapter. 

[7] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

Oh  young  England  !  young  England  !  You  who  are  born 
into  these  racing  railroad  times,  when  there 's  a  Great 
Exhibition,  or  some  monster  sight,  every  year ;  and  you  can 
get  over  a  couple  of  thousand  miles  of  ground  for  three 
pound  ten,  in  a  five  weeks'  holiday ;  why  don't  you  know 
more  of  your  own  birth-places  ?  You  're  all  in  the  ends  of 
the  earth,  it  seems  to  me,  as  soon  as  you  get  your  necks 
out  of  the  educational  collar,  for  Midsummer  holidays,  long 
vacations,  or  what  not.  Going  round  Ireland  with  a  return 
ticket,  in  a  fortnight ;  dropping  your  copies  of  Tennyson  on 
the  tops  of  Swiss  mountains  ;  or  pulling  down  the  Danube 
in  Oxford  racing-boats.  And  when  you  get  home  for  a 
quiet  fortnight,  you  turn  the  steam  off,  and  lie  on  your 
backs  in  the  paternal  garden,  surrounded  by  the  last  batch 
of  books  from  Mudie's  library,  and  half  bored  to  death. 
Well,  well !  I  know  it  has  its  good  side.  You  all  patter 
French  more  or  less,  and  perhaps  German  ;  you  have  seen 
men  and  cities,  no  doubt,  and  have  your  opinions,  such  as 
they  are,  about  schools  of  painting,  high  art,  and  all  that ; 
have  seen  the  pictures  at  Dresden  and  the  Louvre,  and 
know  the  taste  of  sour  krout.  All  I  say  is,  you  don't  know 
your  own  lanes  and  woods  and  fields.  Though  you  may  be 
chock  full  of  science,  not  one  in  twenty  of  you  knows 
where  to  find  the  wood-sorrel,  or  bee-orchis,  which  grow  in 
the  next  wood,  or  on  the  down  three  miles  off,  or  what 
the  bog-bean  and  wood-sage  are  good  for.  And  as  for  the 
country  legends,  the  stories  of  the  old  gable-ended  farm- 
houses, the  place  where  the  last  skirmish  was  fought  in  the 
civil  wars,  where  the  parish  butts  stood,  where  the  last 
highwayman  turned  to  bay,  where  the  last  ghost  was  laid 
by  the  parson,  they  're  gone  out  of  date  altogether. 

[8] 


YOUNG    ENGLAND 

Now,  in  my  time,  when  we  got  home  by  the  old  coach, 
which  put  us  down  at  the  cross-roads  with  our  boxes,  the 
first  day  of  the  hohdays,  and  had  been  driven  off  by  the 
family  coachman,  singing  '  Dulce  domum '  at  the  top  of 
our  voices,  there  we  were,  fixtures,  till  black  Monday  came 
round.  We  had  to  cut  out  our  own  amusements  with- 
in a  walk  or  a  ride  of  home.  And  so  we  got  to  know 
all  the  country  folk,  and  their  ways  and  songs  and  stories, 
by  heart ;  and  went  over  the  fields,  and  woods,  and  hills, 
again  and  again,  till  we  made  friends  of  them  all.  We  were 
Berkshire,  or  Gloucestershire,  or  Yorkshire  boys,  and  you  're 
young  cosmopolites,  belonging  to  all  counties  and  no  coun- 
tries. No  doubt  it 's  all  right,  I  dare  say  it  is.  This  is  the 
day  of  large  views  and  glorious  humanity,  and  all  that ;  but 
I  wish  back-sword  play  had  n't  gone  out  in  the  Vale  of  White 
Horse,  and  that  that  confounded  Great  Western  had  n't 
carried   away   Alfred's    Hill   to   make   an   embankment. 

But  to  return  to  the  said  Vale  of  White  Horse,  the 
country  in  which  the  first  scenes  of  this  true  and  interesting 
story  are  laid.  As  I  said,  the  Great  Western  now  runs  right 
through  it,  and  it  is  a  land  of  large  rich  pastures,  bounded 
by  ox-fences,  and  covered  with  fine  hedgerow  timber,  with 
here  and  there  a  nice  little  gorse  or  spinney,  where  abideth 
poor  Charley,  having  no  other  cover  to  which  to  betake 
himself  for  miles  and  miles,  when  pushed  out  some  fine 
November  morning  by  the  Old  Berkshire.  Those  who  have 
been  there,  and  well  mounted,  only  know  how  he  and  the 
staunch  little  pack  who  dash  after  him  —  heads  high  and 
sterns  low,  with  a  breast-high  scent  —  can  consume  the 
ground  at  such  times.  There  being  little  plough-land  and 
few  woods,  the  Vale  is  only  an  average  sporting  country, 

[9] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

except  for  hunting.  The  villages  are  straggling,  queer, 
old-fashioned  places,  the  houses  being  dropped  down  with- 
out the  least  regularity,  in  nooks  and  out-of-the-way  corners, 
by  the  sides  of  shadowy  lanes  and  footpaths,  each  with  its 
patch  of  garden.  They  are  built  chiefly  of  good  grey  stone 
and  thatched  ;  though  I  see  that  within  the  last  year  or  two 
the  red-brick  cottages  are  multiplying,  for  the  Vale  is  begin- 
ning to  manufacture  largely  both  brick  and  tiles.  There 
are  lots  of  waste  ground  by  the  side  of  the  roads  in  every 
village,  amounting  often  to  village  greens,  where  feed  the 
pigs  and  ganders  of  the  people ;  and  these  roads  are  old- 
fashioned  homely  roads,  very  dirty  and  badly  made,  and 
hardly  endurable  in  winter,  but  still  pleasant  jog-trot  roads 
mnning  through  the  great  pasture  lands,  dotted  here  and 
there  with  little  clumps  of  thorns,  where  the  sleek  kine  are 
feeding,  with  no  fence  on  either  side  of  them,  and  a  gate 
at  the  end  of  each  field,  which  makes  you  get  out  of  your 
gig  (if  you  keep  one),  and  gives  you  a  chance  of  looking 
about  you  every  quarter  of  a  mile. 

One  of  the  moralists  whom  we  sat  under  in  my  youth, — 
was  it  the  great  Richard  Swiveller,  or  Mr.  Stiggins  ?  —  says, 
'  We  are  born  in  a  vale,  and  must  take  the  consequences 
of  being  found  in  such  a  situation.'  These  consequences  I 
for  one  am  ready  to  encounter.  I  pity  people  who  weren't 
born  in  a  vale.  I  don't  mean  a  flat  country,  but  a  vale  : 
that  is,  a  flat  country  bounded  by  hills.  The  having  your 
hill  always  in  view  if  you  choose  to  turn  towards  him, 
that 's  the  essence  of  a  vale.  There  he  is  for  ever  in  the 
distance,  your  friend  and  companion  ;  you  never  lose  him 
as  you  do  in  hilly  districts. 

And  then  what  a  hill  is  the  White  Horse  Hill !    There 

[lo] 


THE   WHITE    HORSE    HILL 

it  stands  right  up  above  all  the  rest,  nine  hundred  feet 
above  the  sea,  and  the  boldest  bravest  shape  for  a  chalk 
hill  that  you  ever  saw.  Let  us  go  up  to  the  top  of  him, 
and  see  what  is  to  be  found  there.  Aye,  you  may  well 
wonder,  and  think  it  odd  you  never  heard  of  this  before ; 
but,  wonder  or  not,  as  you  please,  there  are  hundreds  of 
such  things  lying  about  England,  which  wiser  folk  than 
you  know  nothing  of,  and  care  nothing  for.  Yes,  it 's  a 
magnificent  Roman  camp,  and  no  mistake,  with  gates,  and 
ditch,  and  mounds,  all  as  complete  as  it  was  twenty  years 
after  the  strong  old  rogues  left  it.  Here,  right  up  on  the 
highest  point,  from  which  they  say  you  can  see  eleven 
counties,  they  trenched  round  all  the  table-land,  some 
twelve  or  fourteen  acres,  as  was  their  custom,  for  they 
could  n't  bear  anybody  to  overlook  them,  and  made  their 
eyrie.  The  ground  falls  away  rapidly  on  all  sides.  Was 
there  ever  such  turf  in  the  whole  world .?  You  sink  up  to 
your  ankles  at  every  step,  and  yet  the  spring  of  it  is 
delicious.  There  is  always  a  breeze  in  the  'camp,'  as  it  is 
called,  and  here  it  lies,  just  as  the  Romans  left  it,  except 
that  cairn  on  the  east  side,  left  by  Her  Majesty's  corps  of 
Sappers  and  Miners  the  other  day,  when  they  and  the 
Engineer  officer  had  finished  their  sojourn  there,  and  their 
surveys  for  the  Ordnance  Map  of  Berkshire.  It  is  alto- 
gether a  place  that  you  won't  forget,  —  a  place  to  open  a 
man's  soul  and  make  him  prophesy,  as  he  looks  down  on 
that  great  Vale  spread  out  as  the  garden  of  the  Lord 
before  him,  and  wave  on  wave  of  the  mysterious  downs 
behind ;  and  to  the  right  and  left  the  chalk  hills  running 
away  into  the  distance,  along  which  he  can  trace  for  miles 
the  old  Roman  road,  *  the  Ridgeway  '  ('  the  Rudge  '  as  the 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

country  folk  call  it),  keeping  straight  along  the  highest 
back  of  the  hills ;  —  such  a  place  as  Balak  brought  Balaam 
to,  and  told  him  to  prophesy  against  the  people  in  the 
valley  beneath.  And  he  could  not,  neither  shall  you,  for 
they  are  a  people  of  the  Lord  who  abide  there. 

And  now  we  leave  the  camp,  and  descend  towards  the 
west,  and  are  on  the  Ashdown.  We  are  treading  on 
heroes.  It  is  sacred  ground  for  Englishmen,  more  sacred 
than  all  but  one  or  two  fields  where  their  bones  lie  whiten- 
ing. For  this  is  the  actual  place  where  our  Alfred  won 
his  great  battle,  the  battle  of  Ashdown  ('  Aescendum '  in 
the  chroniclers)  which  broke  the  Danish  power,  and  made 
England  a  Christian  land.  The  Danes  held  the  camp  and 
the  slope  where  we  are  standing  —  the  whole  crown  of 
the  hill  in  fact.  '  The  heathen  had  beforehand  seized  the 
higher  ground,'  as  old  Asser  says,  having  wasted  ever)'thing 
behind  them  from  London,  and  being  just  ready  to  burst 
down  on  the  fair  vale,  Alfred's  own  birth-place  and  herit- 
age. And  up  the  heights  came  the  Saxons,  as  they  did  at 
the  Alma.  'The  Christians  led,  up  their  line  from  the 
lower  ground.  There  stood  also  on  that  same  spot  a  single 
thorn-tree,  marvellous  stumpy  (which  we  ourselves  with  our 
very  own  eyes  have  seen).'  Bless  the  old  chronicler!  does 
he  think  nobody  ever  saw  the  '  single  thorn-tree '  but 
himself  ?  Why,  there  it  stands  to  this  very  day,  just  on 
the  edge  of  the  slope,  and  I  saw  it  not  three  weeks  since ; 
an  old  single  thorn-tree,  '  marv^ellous  stumpy.'  At  least  if 
it  isn't  the  same  tree,  it  ought  to  have  been,  for  it's  just 
in  the  place  where  the  battle  must  have  been  won  or 
lost  — '  around  which,  as  I  was  saying,  the  two  lines  of 
foemen  came  together  in  battle  with  a  huge  shout.    And 

[12] 


THE    WHITE    HORSE 

in  this  place,  one  of  the  two  Kings  of  the  heathen,  and 
five  of  his  earls  fell  down  and  died,  and  many  thousands 
of  the  heathen  side  in  the  same  place.'  ^  After  which 
crowning  mercy,  the  pious  King,  that  there  might  never 
be  wanting  a  sign  and  a  memorial  to  the  country-side, 
carved  out  on  the  northern  side  of  the  chalk  hill,  under 
the  camp,  where  it  is  almost  precipitous,  the  great  Saxon 
white  horse,  which  he  who  will  may  see  from  the  railway, 
and  which  gives  its  name  to  the  vale,  over  which  it  has 
looked  these  thousand  years  and  more. 

Right  down  below  the  White  Horse,  is  a  curious  deep 
and  broad  gully  called  'the  Manger,'  into  one  side  of 
which  the  hills  fall  with  a  series  of  the  most  lovely  sweep- 
ing curv'es,  known  as  '  the  Giant's  Stairs ' ;  they  are  not 
a  bit  like  stairs,  but  I  never  saw  anything  like  them 
anywhere  else,  with  their  short  green  turf,  and  tender 
blue-bells,  and  gossamer  and  thistle-down  gleaming  in  the 
sun,  and  the  sheep-paths  running  along  their  sides  like 
ruled  lines. 

The  other  side  of  the  Manger  is  formed  by  the  Dragon's 
Hill,  a  curious  little  round  self-confident  fellow,  thrown 
forward  from  the  range,  and  utterly  unlike  everything  round 
him.  On  this  hill  some  deliverer  of  mankind,  St.  George, 
the  country  folk  used  to  tell  me,  killed  a  dragon.    Whether 

^  '  Pagani  editiorem  locum  praeoccupaverant.  Christiani  ab  inferior! 
loco  aciem  dirigebant.  Erat  quoque  in  eodem  loco  unica  spinosa  arbor, 
brevis  admodum  (quam  nos  ipsi  nostris  propriis  oculis  vidimus).  Circa 
quam  ergo  hostiles  inter  se  acies  cum  ingenti  clamore  hostiliter  con- 
veniunt.  Quo  in  loco  alter  de  duobus  Paganorum  regibus  at  quinque 
comites  occisi  occubuerunt,  et  multa  millia  Paganae  partis  in  eodem  loco. 
Cecidit  illic  ergo  Boegsceg  Rex,  et  Sidroc  ille  senex  comes,  et  Sidroc 
Junior  comes,  et  Obsbern  comes,'  etc.  —  Annales  Rerum  Gestarum  yEl/redi 
Magni,  Anctore  Asserio.  Receiisiiit  Franciscits  Wise,  p.  23.    Oxford,  1722. 

[13] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

it  were  St.  George,  I  cannot  say ;  but  surely  a  dragon  was 
killed  there,  for  you  may  see  the  marks  yet  where  his 
blood  ran  down,  and  more  by  token  the  place  where  it 
ran  down  is  the  easiest  way  up  the  hill-side. 

Passing  along  the  Ridgeway  to  the  west  for  about  a 
mile,  we  come  to  a  little  clump  of  young  beech  and  firs, 
with  a  growth  of  thorn  and  privet  underwood.  Here  you 
may  find  nests  of  the  strong  down  partridge  and  peewit, 
but  take  care  that  the  keeper  is  n't  down  upon  you  ;  and  in 
the  middle  of  it  is  an  old  cromlech,  a  huge  flat  stone 
raised  on  seven  or  eight  others,  and  led  up  to  by  a  path, 
with  large  single  stones  set  up  on  each  side.  This  is 
Wayland  Smith's  cave,  a  place  of  classic  fame  now ;  but 
as  Sir  Walter  has  touched  it,  I  may  as  well  let  it  alone, 
and  refer  you  to  Keiiil-worth  for  the  legend. 

The  thick  deep  wood  which  you  see  in  the  hollow  about 
a  mile  off,  surrounds  Ashdown  Park,  built  by  Inigo  Jones. 
Four  broad  alleys  are  cut  through  the  wood  from  circum- 
ference to  centre,  and  each  leads  to  one  face  of  the  house. 
The  mystery  of  the  downs  hangs  about  house  and  wood, 
as  they  stand  there  alone,  so  unlike  all  around,  with  the 
green  slopes,  studded  with  great  stones  just  about  this  part, 
stretching  away  on  all  sides.  It  was  a  wise  Lord  Craven, 
I  think,  who  pitched  his  tent  there. 

Passing  along  the  Ridgeway  to  the  east,  we  soon  come 
to  cultivated  land.  The  downs,  strictly  so-called,  are  no 
more ;  Lincolnshire  farmers  have  been  imported,  and  the 
long  fresh  slopes  are  sheep-walks  no  more,  but  grow 
famous  turnips  and  barley.  One  of  these  improvers  lives 
over  there  at  the  '  Seven  Barrows '  Farm,  another  mystery 
of  the  great  downs.    There  are  the  barrows  still,  solemn 

[14] 


THE    BLOWING    STONE 

and  silent,  like  ships  in  the  calm  sea,  the  sepulchres  of 
some  sons  of  men.  But  of  whom  ?  It  is  three  miles  from 
the  White  Horse,  too  far  for  the  slain  of  Ashdown  to  be 
buried  there  —  who  shall  say  what  heroes  are  waiting  there  ? 
But  we  must  get  down  into  the  Vale  again,  and  so  away 
by  the  Great  Western  Railway  to  town,  for  time  and  the 
printer's  devil  press,  aiid  it  is  a  terrible  long  and  slippery 
descent,  and  a  shocking  bad  road.  At  the  bottom,  how- 
ever, there  is  a  pleasant  public,  whereat  we  must  really 
take  a  modest  quencher,  for  the  down  air  is  provocative 
of  thirst.  So  we  pull  up  under  an  old  oak  which  stands 
before  the  door. 

'  What  is  the  name  of  your  hill,  landlord  } ' 

'  Blawing  Stw^un  Hill,  sir,  to  be  sure.' 

[Reader.    '  Sturm  f  ' 

Author.    '  Stone,  stupid  :  the  Blowing  Stone''\ 

'And  of  your  house.-'    I  can't  make  out  the  sign.' 

'Blawing  Stwun,  sir,'  says  the  landlord,  pouring  out  his 
old  ale  from  a  Toby  Philpot  jug,  with  a  melodious  crash, 
into  the  long-necked  glass. 

'  What  queer  names  !  '  say  we,  sighing  at  the  end  of  our 
draught,  and  holding  out  the  glass  to  be  replenished. 

'  Bean't  queer  at  all,  as  I  can  see,  sir,'  says  mine  host, 
handing  back  our  glass,  '  seeing  as  this  here  is  the  Blawing 
Stwun  his  self,'  putting  his  hand  on  a  square  lump  of  stone, 
some  three  feet  and  a  half  high,  perforated  with  two  or 
three  queer  holes,  like  petrified  antediluvian  rat-holes,  which 
lies  there  close  under  the  oak,  under  our  very  nose.  We 
are  more  than  ever  puzzled,  and  drink  our  second  glass  of 
ale,  wondering  what  will  come  next.  '  Like  to  hear  un,  sir  ? ' 
says  mine  host,  setting  down  Toby  Philpot  on  the  tray,  and 

[15] 


TOM    BROWNS    SCHOOL-DAYS 

resting  both  hands  on  the  '  Stwun.'  We  are  ready  for  any- 
thing ;  and  he,  without  waiting  for  a  reply,  apphes  his 
mouth  to  one  of  the  rat-holes.  Something  must  come  of  it, 
if  he  does  n't  burst.  Good  heavens !  I  hope  he  has  no  apo- 
plectic tendencies.  Yes,  here  it  comes,  sure  enough,  a  grue- 
some sound  between  a  moan  and  a  roar,  and  spreads  itself 
away  over  the  valley,  and  up  the  hill-side,  and  into  the  woods 
at  the  back  of  the  house,  a  ghost-like  awful  voice.  '  Um  do 
say,  sir,'  says  mine  host,  rising  purple-faced,  while  the  moan 
is  still  coming  out  of  the  Stwun,  '  as  they  used  in  old  times 
to  warn  the  country-side  by  blawing  the  Stwun  when  the 
enemy  was  a-comin'  —  and  as  how  folks  could  make  un 
heered  then  for  seven  mile  round  ;  leastways,  so  I  've  heered 
lawyer  Smith  say,  and  he  knows  a  smart  sight  about  them 
old  times,'  We  can  hardly  swallow  lawyer  Smith's  seven 
miles,  but  could  the  blowing  of  the  stone  have  been  a  sum- 
mons, a  sort  of  sending  the  fiery  cross  round  the  neighbour- 
hood in  the  old  times  ?  What  old  times  ,'*  Who  knows  ? 
We  pay  for  our  beer,  and  are  thankful. 

'  And  what 's  the  name  of  the  village  just  below,  landlord  ? ' 

'  Kingstone  Lisle,  sir,' 

'  Fine  plantations  you  've  got  here  .'' ' 

'  Yes,  sir,  the  Squire  's  'mazin'  fond  of  trees  and  such  like.' 

'  No  wonder.  He  's  got  some  real .  beauties  to  be  fond  of. 
Good  day,  landlord.' 

'  Good  day,  sir,  and  a  pleasant  ride  to  'e.' 

And  now,  my  boys,  you  whom  I  want  to  get  for  readers, 
have  you  had  enough  ?  Will  you  give  in  at  once,  and  say 
you  're  convinced,  and  let  me  begin  my  story,  or  will  you 
have  more  of  it  ?  Remember,  I  've  only  been  over  a  little 
bit  of  the  hill-side  yet,  what  you  could  ride  round  easily  on 

[16] 


'A    MODEST   QUENCHER" 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

your  ponies  in  an  hour,  I'm  only  just  come  down  into  the 
Vale,  by  Blowing  Stone  Hill,  and  if  I  once  begin  about 
the  Vale,  what 's  to  stop  me  ?  You  '11  have  to  hear  all  about 
Wantage,  the  birth-place  of  Alfred,  and  Farringdon,  which 
held  out  so  long  for  Charles  the  First  (the  Vale  was  near 
Oxford,  and  dreadfully  malignant ;  full  of  Throgmortons, 
Puseys,  and  Pyes,  and  such  like,  and  their  brawny  retainers). 
Did  you  ever  read  Thomas  Ingoldsby's  Legend  of  Hamiltoji 
Tighc  ?  If  you  have  n't,  you  ought  to  have.  Well,  Farring- 
don is  where  he  lived,  before  he  went  to  sea  ;  his  real  name 
was  Hamden  Pye,  and  the  Pyes  were  the  great  folk  at 
Farringdon.  Then  there 's  Pusev.  You  've  heard  of  the 
Pusey  horn,  which  King  Canute  gave  to  the  Puseys  of  that 
day,  and  which  the  gallant  old  squire,  lately  gone  to  his  rest 
(whom  Berkshire  freeholders  turned  out  of  last  Parliament, 
to  their  eternal  disgrace,  for  voting  according  to  his  con- 
science), used  to  bring  out  on  high  days,  holidays,  and  bon- 
fire nights.  And  the  splendid  old  Cross  Church  at  Uffington, 
the  Uffingas  town  —  how  the  whole  country-side  teems  with 
Saxon  names  and  memories  !  And  the  old  moated  grange 
at  Compton,  nestled  close  under  the  hill-side,  where  twenty 
Marianas  may  have  lived,  with  its  bright  water-lilies  in  the 
moat,  and  its  yew  walk,  'the  Cloister  Walk,'  and  its 
.  peerless  terraced  gardens.  There  they  all  are,  and  twenty 
things  besides,  for  those  who  care  about  them,  and  have 
eyes.  And  these  are  the  sort  of  things  you  may  find,  I 
believe,  every  one  of  you,  in  any  common  English  country 
neighbourhood. 

Will  you  look  for  them  under  your  own  noses,  or  will 
you  not }  Well,  well ;  I  've  done  what  I  can  to  make  you, 
and  if  you  will  go   gadding   over  half   Europe   now  every 

.     [i8] 


TOM    BROWN'S    HOME 

holidays,  I  can't  help  it.  I  was  born  and  bred  a  West- 
countryman,  thank  God  !  a  Wessex  man,  a  citizen  of  the 
noblest  Saxon  kingdom  of  Wessex,  a  regular  *  Angular 
Saxon,'  the  very  soul  of  me  adscriptiis  glebae.  There 's 
nothing  like  the  old  country-side  for  me,  and  no  music  like 
the  twang  of  the  real  old  Saxon  tongue  as  one  gets  it 
fresh  from  the  veritable  chaw  in  the  White  Horse  Vale  : 
and  I  say  with  '  Gaarge  Ridler,'  the  old  West-country  yeoman, 

'  Throo  aall  the  waarld  owld  Gaarge  would  bwoast 
Commend  me  to  merry  owld  England  mwoast : 
While  vools  gwoes  prating  vur  and  nigh, 
We  stwops  at  whum,  my  dog  and  I.' 

Here,  at  any  rate,  lived  and  stopped  at  home  Squire 
Brown,  J.  P,  for  the  county  of  Berks,  in  a  village  near  the 
foot  of  the  White  Horse  range.  And  here  he  dealt  out 
justice  and  mercy  in  a  rough  way,  and  begat  sons  and 
daughters,  and  hunted  the  fox,  and  grumbled  at  the  bad- 
ness of  the  roads  and  the  times.  And  his  wife  dealt  out 
stockings,  and  calico  shirts,  and  smock  frocks,  and  com- 
forting drinks  to  the  old  folks  with  the  'rheumatiz,'  and 
good  counsel  to  all ;  and  kept  the  coal  and  clothes  clubs 
going,  for  yule-tide,  when  the  bands  of  mummers  came 
round,  dressed  out  in  ribbons  and  coloured  paper  caps,  and 
stamped  round  the  Squire's  kitchen,  repeating  in  true  sing- 
song vernacular  the  legend  of  St.  George  and  his  fight,  and 
the  ten-pound  doctor,  who  plays  his  part  at  healing  the 
Saint,  —  a  relic,  I  believe,  of  the  old  Middle-Age  mysteries. 
It  was  the  first  dramatic  representation  which  greeted  the 
eyes  of  little  Tom,  who  was  brought  down  into  the  kitchen 
by  his  nurse  to  witness  it,  at  the  mature  age  of  three  years. 

[19] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

Tom  was  the  eldest  child  of  his  parents,  and  from  his 
earliest  babyhood  exhibited  the  family  characteristics  in 
great  strength.  He  was  a  hearty  strong  boy  from  the  first, 
given  to  fighting  with  and  escaping  from  his  nurse,  and 
fraternizing  with  all  the  village  boys,  with  whom  he  made 
expeditions  all  round  the  neighbourhood.  And  here  in  the 
quiet  old-fashioned  country  village,  under  the  shadow  of  the 
everlasting  hills,  Tom  Brown  was  reared,  and  never  left  it 
till  he  went  first  to  school  when  nearly  eight  years  of  age, — 
for  in  those  days  change  of  air  twice  a  year  was  not  thought 
absolutely  necessary  for  the  health  of  all  her  Majesty's  lieges. 
I  have  been  credibly  informed,  and  am  inclined  to  believe, 
that  the  various  Boards  of  Directors  of  Railway  Companies, 
those  gigantic  jobbers  and  bribers,  while  quarrelling  about 
everything  else,  agreed  together  some  ten  years  back  to  buy 
up  the  learned  profession  of  Medicine,  body  and  soul.  To 
this  end  they  set  apart  several  millions  of  money,  which 
they  continually  distribute  judiciously  amongst  the  Doctors, 
stipulating  only  this  one  thing,  that  they  shall  prescribe 
change  of  air  to  every  patient  who  can  pay,  or  borrow 
money  to  pay,  a  railway  fare,  and  see  their  prescription 
carried  out.  If  it  be  not  for  this,  why  is  it  that  none  of  us 
can  be  well  at  home  for  a  year  together  ?  It  was  n't  so 
twenty  years  ago  —  not  a  bit  of  it.  The  Browns  did  n't  go 
out  of  the  county  once  in  five  years.  A  visit  to  Reading 
or  Abingdon  twice  a  year,  at  Assizes  or  Quarter  Sessions, 
which  the  Squire  made  on  his  horse  with  a  pair  of  saddle- 
bags containing  his  wardrobe  —  a  stay  of  a  day  or  two  at 
some  country  neighbour's  —  or  an  expedition  to  a  county 
ball,  or  the  yeomanry  review  —  made  up  the  sum  of  the 
Brown   locomotion   in    most   years.    A    stray    Brown    from 

[20] 


INFREQUENT    VISITORS 

some  distant  county  dropped  in  every  now  and  then  ;  or 
from  Oxford,  on  grave  nag,  an  old  don,  contemporary  of 
the  Squire  ;  and  were  looked  upon  by  the  Brown  household 
and  the  villagers  with  the  same  sort  of  feeling  with  which 
we  now  regard  a  man  who  has  crossed  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains, or  launched  a  boat  on  the  Great  Lake  in  Central 
Africa.  The  White  Horse  Vale,  remember,  was  traversed 
by  no  great  road  ;  nothing  but  country  parish  roads,  and 
these  very  bad.  Only  one  coach  ran  there,  and  this  one 
only  from  Wantage  to  London,  so  that  the  western  part  of 
the  Vale  was  without  regular  means  of  moving  on,  and 
certainly  didn't  seem  to  want  them.  There  w^as  the  canal, 
by  the  way,  which  supplied  the  country-side  with  coal,  and 
up  and  down  which  continually  went  the  long  barges,  with 
the  big  black  men  lounging  by  the  side  of  the  horses 
along  the  towing-path,  and  the  women  in  bright-coloured 
handkerchiefs  standing  in  the  sterns  steering.  Standing,  I 
say,  but  you  could  never  see  whether  they  were  standing  or 
sitting,  all  but  their  heads  and  shoulders  being  out  of  sight 
in  the  cosy  little  cabins  which  occupied  some  eight  feet  of 
the  stern,  and  which  Tom  Brown  pictured  to  himself  as 
the  most  desirable  of  residences.  His  nurse  told  him  that 
those  good-natured-looking  women  were  in  the  constant 
habit  of  enticing  children  into  the  barges  and  taking  them 
up  to  London  and  selling  them,  which  Tom  would  n't 
believe,  and  which  made  him  resolve  as  soon  as  possible  to 
accept  the  oft-proffered  invitation  of  these  sirens  to  'young 
Master,'  to  come  in  and  have  a  ride.  But  as  yet  the  nurse 
was  too  much  for  Tom. 

Yet  why  should  I  after  all  abuse  the  gadabout  propensi- 
ties of  my  countrymen  .''    We  are  a  vagabond  nation  now, 

[21] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

that 's  certain,  for  better  for  worse.  I  am  a  vagabond  ;  I 
have  been  away  from  home  no  less  than  five  distinct  times 
in  the  last  year.  The  Queen  sets  us  the  example  —  we  are 
moving  on  from  top  to  bottom.  Little  dirty  Jack,  who  abides 
in  Clement's  Inn  gateway,  and  blacks  my  boots  for  a  penny, 
takes  his  month's  hop-picking  every  year  as  a  matter  of 
course.  Why  shouldn't  he.''  I'm  delighted  at  it.  I  love 
vagabonds,  only  I  prefer  poor  to  rich  ones  ;  —  couriers  and 
ladies'  maids,  imperials  and  travelling  carriages,  are  an 
abomination  unto  me  —  I  cannot  away  with  them.  But  for 
dirty  Jack,  and  every  good  fellow  who,  in  the  words  of  the 
capital  French  song,  moves  about, 

'  Comme  le  limac^on, 
Portant  tout  son  bagage, 
Ses  meubles,  sa  maison,' 

on  his  own  back,  why,  good  luck  to  them,  and  many  a 
merry  road-side  adventure,  and  steaming  supper  in  the 
chimney  corners  of  road-side  inns,  Swiss  chalets,  Hottentot 
kraals,  or  wherever  else  they  like  to  go.  So,  having  suc- 
ceeded in  contradicting  myself  in  my  first  chapter  (which 
gives  me  great  hopes  that  you  will  all  go  on,  and  think  me 
a  good  fellow  notwithstanding  my  crotchets),  I  shall  here 
shut  up  for  the  present,  and  consider  my  ways ;  having 
resolved  to  '  sar'  it  out,'  as  we  say  in  the  Vale.  '  holus-bolus  ' 
just  as  it  comes,  and  then  you  '11  probably  get  the  truth 
out  of   me. 


[22] 


'And  the  King  commandeth  and  forbiddeth,  that  from  henceforth 
neither  fairs  nor  markets  be  kept  in  Church-yards,  for  the  honour  of  the 
Church.' — Statutes :  ij  Edward  I,  Stat,  ii,  cap.  vi 


S  THAT  venerable  and  learned  poet 
(whose  voluminous  works  we  all 
think  it  the  correct  thing  to  admire 
and  talk  about,  but  don't  read  often) 
most  truly  says,  '  the  child  is  father 
to  the  man' ;  a  fortiori,  therefore, 
he  must  be  father  to  the  boy.  So, 
as  we  are  going  at  any  rate  to  see 
Tom  Brown  through  his  boyhood, 
supposing  we  never  get  any  further 
(which,  if  you  show  a  proper  sense 
of  the  value  of  this  history,  there 
is  no  knowing  but  what  we  may), 
let  us  have  a  look  at  the  life  and 

[23] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

environments  of  the  child,  in  the  quiet  country  village  to 
which  we  were  introduced  in  the  last  chapter. 

Tom,  as  has  been  already  said,  was  a  robust  and  comba- 
tive urchin,  and  at  the  age  of  four  began  to  struggle  against 
the  yoke  and  authority  of  his  nurse.  That  functionary  was 
a  good-hearted,  tearful,  scatter-brained  girl,  lately  taken  by 
Tom's  mother,  Madam  Brown,  as  she  was  called,  from  the 
village  school  to  be  trained  as  nursery-maid.  Madam  Brown 
was  a  rare  trainer  of  servants,  and  spent  herself  freely  in 
the  profession  ;  for  profession  it  was,  and  gave  her  more 
trouble  by  half  than  many  people  take  to  earn  a  good  in- 
come. Her  servants  were  known  and  sought  after  for  miles 
round.  Almost  all  the  girls  who  attained  a  certain  place  in 
the  village  school  were  taken  by  her,  one  or  two  at  a  time, 
as  house-maids,  laundry-maids,  nursery-maids,  or  kitchen- 
maids,  and  after  a  year  or  two's  drilling,  were  started  in 
life  amongst  the  neighbouring  families,  with  good  principles 
and  wardrobes.  One  of  the  results  of  this  system  was  the 
perpetual  despair  of  Mrs.  Brown's  cook  and  own  maid,  who 
no  sooner  had  a  notable  girl  made  to  their  hands,  than 
Missus  was  sure  to  find  a  good  place  for  her  and  send  her 
off,  taking  in  fresh  importations  from  the  school.  Another 
was,  that  the  house  was  always  full  of  young  girls,  with 
clean  shining  faces ;  who  broke  plates  and  scorched  linen, 
but  made  an  atmosphere  of  cheerful  homely  life  about  the 
place,  good  for  every  one  who  came  within  its  influence. 
Mrs.  Brown  loved  young  people,  and  in  fact  human  creatures 
in  general,  above  plates  and  linen.  They  were  more  like  a 
lot  of  elder  children  than  servants,  and  felt  to  her  more  as 
a  mother  or  aunt  than  as  a  mistress. 

Tom's  nurse  was  one  who  took  in  her  instruction  very 


TOM'S    NURSE 

slowly  —  she  seemed  to  have  two  left  hands  and  no  head  ; 
and  so  Mrs.  Brown  kept  her  on  longer  than  usual,  that  she 
might  expend  her  awkwardness  and.forgetfulness  upon  those 
who  would  not  judge  and  punish  her  too  strictly  for  them. 

Charity  Lamb  was  her  name.  It  had  been  the  immemo- 
rial habit  of  the  village  to  christen  children  either  by  Bible 
names,  or  by  those  of  the  cardinal  and  other  virtues  ;  so 
that  one  was  for  ever  hearing  in  the  village  street,  or  on 
the  green,  shrill  sounds  of  '  Prudence  !  Prudence  !  thee  cum' 
out  o'  the  gutter '  ;  or,  '  Mercy !  drat  the  girl,  what  bist 
thee  a-doin'  wi'  little  Faith  ? '  and  there  were  Ruths,  Rachels, 
Keziahs,  in  every  corner.  The  same  with  the  boys  ;  they 
were  Benjamins,  Jacobs,  Noahs,  Enochs.  I  suppose  the 
custom  has  come  down  from  Puritan  times  —  there  it  is, 
at  any  rate,  very  strong  still  in  the  Vale. 

Well,  from  early  morn  till  dewy  eve,  when  she  had  it 
out  of  him  in  the  cold  tub  before  putting  him  to  bed. 
Charity  and  Tom  were  pitted  against  one  another.  Physical 
power  was  as  yet  on  the  side  of  Charity,  but  she  had  n't  a 
chance  with  him  wherever  head-work  was  wanted.  This  war 
of  independence  began  every  morning  before  breakfast,  when 
Charity  escorted  her  charge  to  a  neighbouring  farm-house 
which  supplied  the  Browns,  and  where,  by  his  mother's 
wish.  Master  Tom  went  to  drink  whey  before  breakfast. 
Tom  had  no  sort  of  objection  to  whey,  but  he  had  a  de- 
cided liking  for  curds,  which  were  forbidden  as  unwhole- 
some, and  there  was  seldom  a  morning  that  he  did  not 
manage  to  secure  a  handful  of  hard  curds,  in  defiance  of 
Charity  and  of  the  farmer's  wife.  The  latter  good  soul  was 
a  gaunt  angular  woman,  who,  with  an  old  black  bonnet  on 
the  top  of  her  head,  the  strings  dangling  about  her  shoulders, 

[25] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

and  her  gown  tucked  through  her  pocket-holes,  went  clatter- 
ing about  the  dairy,  cheese-room,  and  yard,  in  high  pattens. 
Charity  was  some  sort  of  niece  of  the  old  lady's,  and  was 
consequently  free  of  the  farm-house  and  garden,  into  which 
she  could  not  resist  going  for  the  purposes  of  gossip  and 
flirtation  with  the  heir-apparent,  who  was  a  dawdling  fellow, 
never  out  at  work  as  he  ought  to  have  been.  The  moment 
Charity  had  found  her  cousin,  or  any  other  occupation,  Tom 
would  slip  away ;  and  in  a  minute  shrill  cries  would  be 
heard  from  the  dairy,  '  Charity,  Charity,  thee  lazy  huzzy, 
where  bist  ? '  and  Tom  would  break  cover,  hands  and  mouth 
full  of  curds,  and  take  refuge  on  the  shaky  surface  of  the 
great  muck  reservoir  in  the  middle  of  the  yard,  disturbing 
the  repose  of  the  great  pigs.  Here  he  was  in  safety,  as  no 
grown  person  could  follow  without  getting  over  his  knees  ; 
and  the  luckless  Charity,  while  her  aunt  scolded  her  from  the 
dairy-door  for  being  '  alius  hankering  about  arter  our  Willum, 
instead  of  minding  Master  Tom,'  would  descend  from  threats 
to  coaxing,  to  lure  Tom  out  of  the  muck,  which  was  rising 
over  his  shoes  and  would  soon  tell  a  tale  on  his  stockings,  for 
which  she  would  be  sure  to  catch  it  from  missus's  maid. 

Tom  had  two  abettors  in  the  shape  of  a  couple  of  old 
boys,  Noah  and  Benjamin  by  name,  who  defended  him  from 
Charity,  and  expended  much  time  upon  his  education.  They 
were  both  of  them  retired  servants  of  former  generations  of 
the  Browns.  Noah  Crooke  was  a  keen  dry  old  man  of  almost 
ninety,  but  still  able  to  totter  about.  He  talked  to  Tom 
quite  as  if  he  were  one  of  his  own  family,  and  indeed  had 
long  completely  identified  the  Browns  with  himself.  In  some 
remote  age  he  had  been  the  attendant  of  a  Miss  Brown,  and 
had  conveyed  her  about  the  country  on  a  pillion.    He  had 

*      [26] 


y-AyiFi!isiu*Tirt. 


'TOM  HAD  TWO  ABETTORS..  .WHO  DEFENDED  HIM 
FROM  CHARITY' 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

a  little  round  picture  of  the  identical  grey  horse,  capari- 
soned with  the  identical  pillion,  before  which  he  used  to 
do  a  sort  of  fetish  worship,  and  abuse  turnpike-roads  and 
carriages.  He  wore  an  old  full-bottomed  wig,  the  gift  of 
some  dandy  old  Brown  whom  he  had  valeted  in  the  middle 
of  last  century,  which  habiliment  Master  Tom  looked  on 
with  considerable  respect,  not  to  say  fear ;  and  indeed  his 
whole  feeling  towards  Noah  was  strongly  tainted  with  awe ; 
and  when  the  old  gentleman  was  gathered  to  his  fathers, 
Tom's  lamentation  over  him  was  not  unaccompanied  by  a 
certain  joy  at  having  seen  the  last  of  the  wig :  '  Poor  old 
Noah,  dead  and  gone,'  said  he,  'Tom  Brown  so  sorry! 
Put   him   in   the   coffin,    wig  and   all.' 

But  old  Benjy  was  young  Master's  real  delight  and  refuge. 
He  was  a  youth  by  the  side  of  Noah,  scarce  seventy  years 
old.  A  cheery,  humorous,  kind-hearted  old  man,  full  of 
sixty  years  of  Vale  gossip,  and  of  all  sorts  of  helpful  ways 
for  young  and  old,  but  above  all  for  children.  It  was  he 
who  bent  the  first  pin,  with  which  Tom  extracted  his  first 
stickleback  out  of  'Pebbly  Brook,'  the  little  stream  which 
ran  through  the  village.  The  first  stickleback  was  a  splen- 
did fellow,  with  fabulous  red  and  blue  gills.  Tom  kept 
him  in  a  small  basin  till  the  day  of  his  death,  and  became 
a  fisherman  from  that  day.  Within  a  month  from  the  taking 
of  the  first  stickleback,  Benjy  had  carried  off  our  hero  to 
the  canal,  in  defiance  of  Charity,  and  between  them,  after 
a  whole  afternoon's  popjoying,  they  had  caught  three  or 
four  small  coarse  fish  and  a  perch,  averaging  perhaps  two 
and  a  half  ounces  each,  which  Tom  bore  home  in  rapture 
to  his  mother  as  a  precious  gift,  and  she  received  like  a  true 
mother  with  equal  rapture,  instructing  the  cook  nevertheless, 

[28] 


iC^|^<5^''-l'«^^vt 


BENJY  HAD  CARRIED  OFF  OUR  HERO  TO  THE  CANAL' 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

in  a  private  interview,  not  to  prepare  the  same  for  the 
Squire's  dinner.  Charity  had  appealed  against  old  Benjy 
in  the  meantime,  representing  the  dangers  of  the  canal 
banks ;  but  Mrs.  Brown,  seeing  the  boy's  inaptitude  for 
female  guidance,  had  decided  in  Benjy's  favour,  and  from 
thenceforth  the  old  man  was  Tom's  dry  nurse.  And  as  they 
sat  by  the  canal  watching  their  little  green  and  white  float, 
Benjy  would  instruct  him  in  the  doings  of  deceased  Browns. 
How  his  grandfather,  in  the  early  days  of  the  great  war, 
when  there  was  much  distress  and  crime  in  the  Vale,  and 
the  magistrates  had  been  threatened  by  the  mob,  had  ridden 
in  with  a  big  stick  in  his  hand,  and  held  the  Petty  Sessions 
by  himself.  How  his  great  uncle,  the  Rector,  had  encoun- 
tered and  laid  the  last  ghost,  who  had  frightened  the  old 
women,  male  and  female,  of  the  parish  out  of  their  senses, 
and  who  turned  out  to  be  the  blacksmith's  apprentice,  dis- 
guised in  drink  and  a  white  sheet.  It  was  Benjy  too  who 
saddled  Tom's  first  pony,  and  instructed  him  in  the  mysteries 
of  horsemanship,  teaching  him  to  throw  his  weight  back  and 
keep  his  hand  low ;  and  who  stood  chuckling  outside  the 
door  of  the  girls'  school,  when  Tom  rode  his  little  Shetland 
into  the  cottage  and  round  the  table,  where  the  old  dame 
and  her  pupils  were  seated  at  their  work. 

Benjy  himself  was  come  of  a  family  distinguished  in  the 
Vale  for  their  prowess  in  all  athletic  games.  Some  half- 
dozen  of  his  brothers  and  kinsmen  had  gone  to  the  wars, 
of  whom  only  one  had  survived  to  come  home,  with  a  small 
pension,  and  three  bullets  in  different  parts  of  his  body ; 
he  had  shared  Benjy's  cottage  till  his  death,  and  had  left 
him  his  old  dragoon's  sword  and  pistol,  which  hung  over 
the  mantel-piece,  flanked  by  a  pair  of  heavy  single-sticks 

[30] 


THE   VALE    'VEASTS' 

with  which  Benjy  himself  had  won  renown  long  ago  as 
an  old  gamester,  against  the  picked  men  of  Wiltshire  and 
Somersetshire,  in  many  a  good  bout  at  the  revels  and 
pastimes  of  the  country-side.  For  he  had  been  a  famous 
back-sword  man  in  his  young  days,  and  a  good  wrestler  at 
elbow  and  collar. 

Back-swording  and  wrestling  were  the  most  serious  holi- 
day pursuits  of  the  Vale  —  those  by  which  men  attained 
fame  —  and  each  village  had  its  champion.  I  suppose  that, 
on  the  whole,  people  were  less  worked  then  than  they  are 
now ;  at  any  rate,  they  seemed  to  have  more  time  and 
energy  for  the  old  pastimes.  The  great  times  for  back- 
swording  came  round  once  a  year  in  each  village,  at  the 
feast.  The  Vale  *  veasts '  were  not  the  common  statute 
feasts,  but  much  more  ancient  business.  They  are  literally, 
so  far  as  one  can  ascertain,  feasts  of  the  dedication,  i.e.,  they 
were  first  established  in  the  churchyard  on  the  day  on  which 
the  village  church  was  opened  for  public  worship,  which 
was  on  the  wake  Or  festival  of  the  patron  Saint,  and  have 
been  held  on  the  same  day  in  every  year  since  that  time. 

There  was  no  longer  any  remembrance  of  why  the  '  veast ' 
had  been  instituted,  but  nevertheless  it  had  a  pleasant  and 
almost  sacred  character  of  its  own.  For  it  was  then  that  all 
the  children  of  the  village,  wherever  they  were  scattered, 
tried  to  get  home  for  a  holiday  to  visit  their  fathers  and 
mothers  and  friends,  bringing  with  them  their  wages  or 
some  little  gift  from  up  the  countiy  for  the  old  folk.  Per- 
haps for  a  day  or  two  before,  but  at  any  rate  on  *  veast  day ' 
and  the  day  after,  in  our  village,  you  might  see  strapping 
healthy  young  men  and  women  from  all  parts  of  the  country 
going  round  from  house  to  house  in  their  best  clothes,  and 

[31] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

finishing  up  with  a  call  on  Madam  Brown,  whom  they  would 
consult  as  to  putting  out  their  earnings  to  the  best  advan- 
tage, or  how  best  to  expend  the  same  for  the  benefit  of  the 
old  folk.  Every  household,  however  poor,  managed  to  raise 
a  '  feast-cake  '  and  bottle  of  ginger  or  raisin  wine,  which 
stood  on  the  cottage  table  ready  for  all  comers,  and  not 
unlikely  to  make  them  remember  feast-time,  —  for  feast- 
cake  is  very  solid,  and  full  of  huge  raisins.  Moreover, 
feast-time  was  the  day  of  reconciliation  for  the  parish.  If 
Job  Higgins  and  Noah  Freeman  had  n't  spoken  for  the 
last  six  months,  their  '  old  women  '  would  be  sure  to  get  it 
patched  up  by  that  day.  And  though  there  was  a  good 
deal  of  drinking  and  low  vice  in  the  booths  of  an  evening, 
it  was  pretty  well  confined  to  those  who  would  have  been 
doing  the  like  *  veast  or  no  veast,'  and  on  the  whole,  the 
effect  was  humanizing  and  Christian.  In  fact,  the  only 
reason  why  this  is  not  the  case  still,  is  that  gentlefolk  and 
farmers  have  taken  to  other  amusements,  and  have,  as 
usual,  forgotten  the  poor.  They  don't  attend  the  feasts  them- 
selves, and  call  them  disreputable,  whereupon  the  steadiest 
of  the  poor  leave  them  also,  and  they  become  what  they 
are  called.  Class  amusements,  be  they  for  dukes  or  plough- 
boys,  always  become  nuisances  and  curses  to  a  country. 
The  true  charm  of  cricket  and  hunting  is,  that  they  are 
still  more  or  less  sociable  and  universal ;  there  's  a  place 
for  every  man  who  will  come  and  take  his  part. 

No  one  in  the  village  enjoyed  the  approach  of  *  veast 
day '  more  than  Tom,  in  the  year  in  which  he  was  taken 
under  old  Benjy's  tutelage.  The  feast  was  held  in  a  large 
green  field  at  the  lower  end  of  the  village.  The  road  to 
Farringdon  ran  along  one  side  of  it,  and  the  brook  by  the 

[32] 


MORNING    OF    THE   VEAST 

side  of  the  road  ;  and  above  the  brook  was  another  large 
gentle  sloping  pasture-land,  with  a  footpath  running  down 
it  from  the  churchyard  ;  and  the  old  church,  the  originator 
of  all  the  mirth,  towered  up  with  its  grey  walls  and  lancet 
windows,  overlooking  and  sanctioning  the  whole,  though  its 
own  share  therein  had  been  forgotten.  At  the  point  where 
the  footpath  crossed  the  brook  and  road,  and  entered  on 
the  field  where  the  feast  was  held,  was  a  long  low  roadside 
inn,  and  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  field  was  a  large  white 
thatched  farm-house,  where  dwelt  an  old  sporting  farmer, 
a  great  promoter  of  the  revels. 

Past  the  old  church,  and  down  the  footpath,  pottered  the 
old  man  and  the  child  hand  in  hand  early  on  the  afternoon 
of  the  day  before  the  feast,  and  wandered  all  round  the 
ground,  which  was  already  being  occupied  by  the  '  cheap 
Jacks,'  with  their  green-covered  carts  and  marvellous  assort- 
ment of  wares,  and  the  booths  of  more  legitimate  small 
traders  with  their  tempting  arrays  of  fairings  and  eatables ! 
and  penny  peep-shows  and  other  shows,  containing  pink- 
eyed  ladies,  and  *  dwarfs,  and  boa-constrictors,  and  wild 
Indians.  But  the  object  of  most  interest  to  Benjy,  and  of 
course  to  his  pupil  also,  was  the  stage  of  rough  planks 
some  four  feet  high,  which  was  being  put  up  by  the  village 
carpenter  for  the  back-swording  and  wrestling ;  and  after 
surveying  the  whole  tenderly,  old  Benjy  led  his  charge 
away  to  the  roadside  inn,  where  he  ordered  a  glass  of  ale 
and  a  long  pipe  for  himself,  and  discussed  these  unwonted 
luxuries  on  the  bench  outside  in  the  soft  autumn  evening 
with  mine  host,  another  old  servant  of  the  Browns,  and 
speculated  with  him  on  the  likelihood  of  a  good  show  of 
old  gamesters  to  contend  for  the  morrow's  prizes,  and  told 

[33] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

tales  of  the  gallant  bouts  of  forty  years  back,  to  which  Tom 
listened  with  all  his  ears  and  eyes. 

But  who  shall  tell  the  joy  of  the  next  morning,  when  the 
church  bells  were  ringing  a  merry  peal,  and  old  Benjy  ap- 
peared in  the  servants'  hall,  resplendent  in  a  long  blue  coat 
and  brass  buttons,  and  a  pair  of  old  yellow  buckskins  and 
top-boots,  which  he  had  cleaned  for  and  inherited  from 
Tom's  grandfather ;  a  stout  thorn-stick  in  his  hand,  and  a 
nosegay  of  pinks  and  lavender  in  his  button-hole,  and  led 
away  Tom  in  his  best  clothes,  and  two  new  shillings  in  his 
breeches-pockets  ?  Those  two,  at  any  rate,  look  like  enjoy- 
ing the  day's  revel. 

They  quicken  their  pace  when  they  get  into  the  church- 
yard, for  already  they  see  the  field  thronged  with  country 
folk,  the  men  in  clean  white  smocks  or  velveteen  or  fustian 
coats,  with  rough  plush  waistcoats  of  many  colours,  and  the 
women  in  the  beautiful  long  scarlet  cloak,  the  usual  outdoor 
dress  of  West-country  women  in  those  days,  and  which 
often  descended  in  families  from  mother  to  daughter,  or  in 
new-fashioned  stuff  shawls,  which,  if  they  would  but  believe 
it,  don't  become  them  half  so  well.  The  air  resounds  with 
the  pipe  and  tabor,  and  the  drums  and  trumpets  of  the 
showmen  shouting  at  the  doors  of  their  caravans,  over  which 
tremendous  pictures  of  the  wonders  to  be  seen  within  hang 
temptingly ;  while  through  all  rises  the  shrill  '  root-too-too- 
too  '  of  Mr.  Punch,  and  the  unceasing  pan-pipe  of  his  satellite. 

•  Lawk  a'  massey,  Mr.  Benjamin,'  cries  a  stout  motherly 
woman  in  a  red  cloak,  as  they  enter  the  field,  '  be  that  you  ? 
Well  I  never !  you  do  look  purely.  And  how 's  the  Squire, 
and  Madam,  and  the  family  ? ' 

Benjy  graciously  shakes  hands  with  the  speaker,  who  has 

[34] 


AT    THE   VEAST 

left  our  village  for  some  years,  but  has  come  over  for 
Veast  Day  on  a  visit  to  an  old  gossip  —  and  gently  indicates 
the  heir-apparent  of  the  Browns. 

'  Bless  his  little  heart !  I  must  gi'  un  a  kiss.  Here,  Susan- 
nah, Susannah  !  '  cries  she,  raising  herself  from  the  embrace, 
'  come  and  see  Mr.  Benjamin  and  young  Master  Tom. 
You  minds  our  Sukey,  Mr.  Benjamin,  she  be  growed  a  rare 
slip  of  a  wench  since  you  seen  her,  tho'  her  '11  be  sixteen 
come  Martinmas.  I  do  aim  to  take  her  to  see  Madam  to 
get  her  a  place.' 

And  Sukey  comes  bouncing  a^  /ay  from  a  knot  of  old 
schoolfellows,  and  drops  a  curtsey  to  Mr.  Benjamin.  And 
elders  come  up  from  all  parts  to  salute  Benjy,  and  girls 
who  have  been  Madam's  pupils  to  kiss  Master  Tom.  And 
they  carry  him  off  to  load  him  with  fairings  ;  and  he  returns 
to  Benjy,  his  hat  and  coat  covered  with  ribbons,  and  his 
pockets  crammed  with  wonderful  boxes  which  open  upon 
ever  new  boxes  and  boxes,  and  popguns,  and  trumpets,  and 
apples,  and  gilt  gingerbread  from  the  stall  of  Angel  Heavens, 
sole  vendor  thereof,  whose  booth  groans  with  kings  and 
queens,  and  elephants,  and  prancing  steeds,  all  gleaming 
with  gold.  There  was  more  gold  on  Angel's  cakes  than 
there  is  ginger  in  those  of  this  degenerate  age.  Skilled 
diggers  might  yet  make  a  fortune  in  the  churchyards  of  the 
Vale,  by  carefully  washing  the  dust  of  the  consumers  of 
Angel's  gingerbread.  Alas  !  he  is  with  his  namesakes,  and 
his  receipts  have,  I  fear,  died  with  him. 

And  then  they  inspect  the  penny  peep-show,  at  least  Tom 
does,  while  old  Benjy  stands  outside  and  gossips,  and  walks 
up  the  steps,  and  enters  the  mysterious  doors  of  the  pink- 
eyed  lady,  and  the  Irish  Giant,  who  do  not  by  any  means 

[35] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

come  up  to  their  pictures  ;  and  the  boa  will  not  swallow  his 
rabbit,  but  there  the  rabbit  is  waiting  to  be  swallowed  — 
and  what  can  you  expect  for  tuppence  ?  We  are  easily 
pleased  in  the  Vale.  Now  there  is  a  rush  of  the  crowd, 
and  a  tinkling  bell  is  heard,  and  shouts  of  laughter ;  and 
Master  Tom  mounts  on  Benjy's  shoulders  and  beholds  a 
jingling  match  in  all  its  glory.  The  games  are  begun,  and 
this  is  the  opening  of  them.  It  is  a  quaint  game,  immensely 
amusing  to  look  at,  and  as  I  don't  know  whether  it  is  used 
in  your  counties,  I  had  better  describe  it.  A  large  roped 
ring  is  made,  into  which  are  introduced  a  dozen  or  so  of 
big  boys  and  young  men  who  mean  to  play ;  these  are 
carefully  blinded  and  turned  loose  into  the  ring,  and  then 
a  man  is  introduced  not  blindfolded,  with  a  bell  hung  round 
his  neck,  and  his  two  hands  tied  behind  him.  Of  course 
every  time  he  moves,  the  bell  must  ring,  as  he  has  no  hand 
to  hold  it,  and  so  the  dozen  blindfolded  men  have  to  catch 
him.  This  they  cannot  always  manage  if  he  is  a  lively 
fellow,  but  half  of  them  always  rush  into  the  arms  of  the 
other  half,  or  drive  their  heads  together,  or  tumble  over ;  and 
then  the  crowd  laughs  vehemently,  and  invents  nicknames 
for  them  on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  and  they,  if  they  be 
choleric,  tear  off  the  handkerchiefs  which  blind  them,  and 
not  unfrequently  pitch  into  one  another,  each  thinking  that 
the  other  must  have  run  against  him  on  purpose.  It  is  great 
fun  to  look  at  a  jingling  match  certainly,  and  Tom  shouts 
and  jumps  on  old  Benjy's  shoulders  at  the  sight,  until  the 
old  man  feels  weary,  and  shifts  him  to  the  strong  young 
shoulders  of  the  groom,  who  has  just  got  down  to  the  fun. 
And  now,  while  they  are  climbing  the  pole  in  another 
part  of  the  field,  and   muzzling   in  a  flour-tub   in  another, 

[36] 


■I:  /  '-  ' 

'THEY   CARRY    HIM    O  K  K   TO    LOAD    HIM    WITH    FAIRINGS' 


72424 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

the  old  farmer  whose  house,  as  has  been  said,  overlooks 
the  field,  and  who  is  master  of  the  revels,  gets  up  the  steps 
on  to  the  stage,  and  announces  to  all  whom  it  may  concern 
that  a  half-sovereign  in  money  will  be  forthcoming  for  the 
old  gamester  who  breaks  most  heads  ;  to  which  the  Squire 
and  he  have  added  a  new  hat. 

The  amount  of  the  prize  is  sufficient  to  stimulate  the  men 
of  the  immediate  neighbourhood,  but  not  enough  to  bring 
any  very  high  talent  from  a  distance ;  so,  after  a  glance  or 
two  round,  a  tall  fellow,  who  is  a  down  shepherd,  chucks 
his  hat  on  to  the  stage  and  climbs  up  the  steps,  looking 
rather  sheepish.  The  crowd  of  course  first  cheer,  and  then 
chaff  as  usual,  as  he  picks  up  his  hat  and  begins  handling 
the  sticks  to  see  which  will  suit  him. 

'  Wooy,  Willum  Smith,  thee  canst  plaay  wi'  he  arra  daay,' 
says  his  companion  to  the  blacksmith's  apprentice,  a  stout 
young  fellow  of  nineteen  or  twenty.  Willum's  sweetheart 
is  in  the  '  veast '  somewhere,  and  has  strictly  enjoined  him 
not  to  get  his  head  broke  at  back-swording,  on  pain  of  her 
highest  displeasure ;  but  as  she  is  not  to  be  seen  (the  women 
pretend  not  to  like  to  see  the  back-sword  play,  and  keep 
away  from  the  stage),  and  as  his  hat  is  decidedly  getting 
old,  he  chucks  it  on  to  the  stage,  and  follows  himself, 
hoping  that  he  will  only  have  to  break  other  people's 
heads,  or  that  after  all  Rachel  won't  really  mind. 

Then  follows  the  greasy  cap  lined  with  fur  of  a  half- 
gipsy,  poaching,  loafing  fellow,  who  travels  the  Vale  not 
for  much  good,   I  fancy : 

'  Full  twenty  times  was  Peter  feared 
For  once  that  Peter  was  respected,' 

[38] 


THE    PLAYERS 

in  fact.  And  then  three  or  four  other  hats,  including  the 
glossy  castor  of  Joe  Willis,  the  self-elected  and  would-be 
champion  of  the  neighbourhood,  a  well-to-do  young  butcher 
of  twenty-eight  or  thereabouts,  and  a  great  strapping  fellow, 
with  his  full  allowance  of  bluster.  This  is  a  capital  show 
of  gamesters,  considering  the  amount  of  the  prize ;  so 
while  they  are  picking  their  sticks  and  drawing  their  lots, 
I  think  I  must  tell  you,  as  shortly  as  I  can,  how  the  noble 
old  game  of  back-sword  is  played ;  for  it  is  sadly  gone 
out  of  late,  even  in  the  Vale,  and  maybe  you  have  never 
seen  it. 

The  weapon  is  a  good  stout  ash-stick  with  a  large 
basket  handle,  heavier  and  somewhat  shorter  than  a  com- 
mon single-stick.  The  players  are  called  'old  gamesters,' — 
why,  I  can't  tell  you,  —  and  their  object  is  simply  to  break 
one  another's  heads  :  for  the  moment  that  blood  runs  an 
inch  anywhere  above  the  eyebrow,  the  old  gamester  to 
whom  it  belongs  is  beaten,  and  has  to  stop.  A  very  slight 
blow  with  the  sticks  will  fetch  blood,  so  that  it  is  by  no 
means  a  punishing  pastime,  if  the  men  don't  play  on 
purpose,  and  savagely,  at  the  body  and  arms  of  their 
adversaries.  The  old  gamester  going  into  action  only  takes 
off  his  hat  and  coat,  and  arms  himself  with  a  stick  :  he 
then  loops  the  fingers  of  his  left  hand  in  a  handkerchief 
or  strap  which  he  fastens  round  his  left  leg,  measuring 
the  length,  so  that  when  he  draws  it  tight  with  his  left 
elbow  in  the  air,  that  elbov/  shall  just  reach  as  high  as  his 
crown.  Thus  you  see,  so  long  as  he  chooses  to  keep  his 
left  elbow  up,  regardless  of  cuts,  he  has  a  perfect  guard 
for  the  left  side  of  his  head.  Then  he  advances  his  right 
hand   above  and   in   front   of  his   head,   holding  his  stick 

[39] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL- DAYS 

across  so  that  its  point  projects  an  inch  or  two  over  his 
left  elbow,  and  thus  his  whole  head  is  completely  guarded, 
and  he  faces  his  man  armed  in  like  manner,  and  they 
stand  some  three  feet  apart,  often  nearer,  and  feint,  and 
strike,  and  return  at  one  another's  heads,  until  one  cries 
'Hold,'  or  blood  flows;  in  the  first  case  they  are  allowed 
a  minute's  time,  and  go  on  again  ;  in  the  latter,  another 
pair  of  gamesters  are  called  on.  If  good  men  are  playing, 
the  quickness  of  the  returns  is  marvellous  ;  you  hear  the 
rattle  like  that  a  boy  makes  drawing  his  stick  along 
palings,  only  heavier,  and  the  closeness  of  the  men  in 
action  to  one  another  gives  it  a  strange  interest,  and 
makes  a  spell  at  back-swording  a  very  noble  sight. 

They  are  all  suited  now  with  sticks,  and  Joe  Willis  and 
the  gipsy  man  have  drawn  the  first  lot.  So  the  rest  lean 
against  the  rails  of  the  stage,  and  Joe  and  the  dark  man 
meet  in  the  middle,  the  boards  having  been  strewed  with 
sawdust ;  Joe's  white  shirt  and  spotless  drab  breeches  and 
boots  contrasting  with  the  gipsy's  coarse  blue  shirt  and 
dirty  green  velveteen  breeches  and  leather  gaiters.  Joe  is 
evidently  turning  up  his  nose  at  the  other,  and  half 
insulted  at  having  to  break  his  head. 

The  gipsy  is  a  tough,  active  fellow,  but  not  very  skilful 
with  his  weapon,  so  that  Joe's  weight  and  strength  tell 
in  a  minute  ;  he  is  too  heavy  metal  for  him  :  whack,  whack, 
whack,  come  his  blows,  breaking  down  the  gipsy's  guard, 
and  threatening  to  reach  his  head  every  moment.  There 
it  is  at  last  —  '  Blood,  blood  !  '  shout  the  spectators,  as  a 
thin  stream  oozes  out  slowly  from  the  roots  of  his  hair, 
and  the  umpire  calls  to  them  to  stop.  The  gipsy  scowls 
at    Joe    under    his    brows    in    no    pleasant   manner,   while 

[40] 


THE    SHEPHERD    AND    WILLUM    SMITH 

Master  Joe  swaggers  about,  and  makes  attitudes,  and 
thinks  himself,  and  shows  that  he  thinks  himself,  the 
greatest  man  in  the  field. 

Then  follow  several  stout  sets-to  between  the  other 
candidates  for  the  new  hat,  and  at  last  come  the  shepherd 
and  Willum  Smith.  This  is  the  crack  set-to  of  the  day. 
They  are  both  in  famous  wind,  and  there  is  no  crying 
'  Hold  '  ;  the  shepherd  is  an  old  hand  and  up  to  all  the 
dodges  ;  he  tries  them  one  after  another,  and  very  nearly 
gets  at  Willum 's  head  by  coming  in  near,  and  playing 
over  his  guard  at  the  half-stick,  but  somehow  Willum 
blunders  through,  catching  the  stick  on  his  shoulders, 
neck,  sides,  every  now  and  then,  anywhere  but  on  his 
head,  and  his  returns  are  heavy  and  straight,  and  he  is 
the  youngest  gamester  and  a  favourite  in  the  parish,  and 
his  gallant  stand  brings  down  shouts  and  cheers,  and  the 
knowing  ones  think  he  '11  win  if  he  keeps  steady,  and  Tom 
on  the  groom's  shoulder  holds  his  hands  together,  and 
can  hardly  breathe  for  excitement. 

Alas  for  Willum  !  his  sweetheart  getting  tired  of  female 
companionship  has  been  hunting  the  booths  to  see  where 
he  can  have  got  to,  and  now  catches  sight  of  him  on  the 
stage  in  full  combat.  She  flushes  and  turns  pale  ;  her  old 
aunt  catches  hold  of  her,  saying,  '  Bless  'ee,  child,  doan't 
'ee  go  a'nighst  it '  ;  but  she  breaks  away  and  runs  towards 
the  stage  calling  his  name.  Willum  keeps  up  his  guard 
stoutly,  but  glances  for  a  moment  towards  the  voice.  No 
guard  will  do  it,  Willum,  without  the  eye.  The  shepherd 
steps  round  and  strikes,  and  the  point  of  his  stick  just 
grazes  Willum's  forehead,  fetching  off  the  skin,  and  the 
blood    flows,    and     the    umpire    cries     '  Hold,'    and    poor 

[41] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

Willum's  chance  is  up  for  the  day.  But  he  takes  it  very 
well,  and  puts  on  his  old  hat  and  coat,  and  goes  down  to 
be  scolded  by  his  sweetheart,  and  led  away  out  of  mischief. 
Tom  hears  him  say  coaxingly  as  he  walks  off  — 

'  Now,  doan't  'ec,  Rachel !  I  would  n't  ha'  done  it,  only 
I  wanted  summut  to  buy  'ee  a  fairing  wi',  and  I  be  as 
vlush  o'  money  as  a  twod  o'  veathers.' 

'Thee  mind  what  I  tells  'ee,'  rejoins  Rachel  saucily, 
'and  doan't  'ee  kep  blethering  about  fairings,'  Tom 
resolves  in  his  heart  to  give  Willum  the  remainder  of 
his  two  shillings  after  the  back-swording. 

Joe  Willis  has  all  the  luck  to-day.  His  next  bout  ends 
in  an  easy  victory,  while  the  shepherd  has  a  tough  job  to 
break  his  second  head  ;  and  when  Joe  and  the  shepherd 
meet,  and  the  whole  circle  expect  and  hope  to  see  him 
get  a  broken  crown,  the  shepherd  slips  in  the  first  round 
and  falls  against  the  rails,  hurting  himself  so  that  the  old 
farmer  will  not  let  him  go  on,  much  as  he  wishes  to  try ; 
and  that  impostor  Joe  (for  he  is  certainly  not  the  best  man) 
struts  and  swaggers  about  the  stage  the  conquering  game- 
ster, though  he  has  n't  had  five  minutes'  really  trying  play. 

Joe  takes  the  new  hat  in  his  hand,  and  puts  the  money 
into  it,  and  then  as  if  a  thought  strikes  him,  and  he 
doesn't  think  his  victor)'  quite  acknowledged  down  below, 
walks  to  each  face  of  the  stage,  and  looks  down,  shaking 
the  money,  and  chaffing,  as  how  he  '11  stake  hat  and  money 
and  another  half-sovereign  'agin  any  gamester  as  hasn't 
played  already.'  Cunning  Joe  !  he  thus  gets  rid  of  Willum 
and  the  shepherd,  who  is  quite  fresh  again. 

No  one  seems  to  like  the  offer,  and  the  umpire  is  just 
coming   down,   when    a    queer   old    hat,    something   like   a 

[42] 


JOE    OUT    OF    LUCK 

Doctor  of  Divinity's  shovel,  is  chucked  on  to  the  stage, 
and  an  elderly  quiet  man  steps  out,  who  has  been  watching 
the  play,  saying  he  should  like  to  cross  a  stick  wi'  the 
prodigalish  young  chap. 

The  crowd  cheer  and  begin  to  chaff  Joe,  who  turns  up 
his  nose  and  swaggers  across  to  the  sticks.  '  Imp'dent 
old  wosbird  !  '  says  he,  '  I  '11  break  the  bald  head  on  un 
to  the  truth.' 

The  old  boy  is  very  bald  certainly,  and  the  blood  will 
show  fast  enough  if  you  can  touch  him,  Joe. 

He  takes  off  his  long-flapped  coat,  and  stands  up  in  a 
long-flapped  waistcoat,  which  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley  might 
have  worn  when  it  was  new,  picks  out  a  stick,  and  is 
ready  for  Master  Joe,  who  loses  no  time,  but  begins  his 
old  game,  whack,  whack,  whack,  trying  to  break  down  the 
old  man's  guard  by  sheer  strength.  But  it  won't  do,  —  he 
catches  every  blow  close  by  the  basket,  and  though  he  is 
rather  stiff  in  his  returns,  after  a  minute  walks  Joe  about 
the  stage,  and  is  clearly  a  staunch  old  gamester.  Joe  now 
comes  in,  and  making  the  most  of  his  height,  tries  to  get 
over  the  old  man's  guard  at  half-stick,  by  which  he  takes 
a  smart  blow  in  the  ribs  and  another  on  the  elbow  and 
nothing  more.  And  now  he  loses  wind  and  begins  to  puff, 
and  the  crowd  laugh  :  '  Cry  "  Hold,"  Joe  —  thee  'st  met  thy 
match ! '  Instead  of  taking  good  advice  and  getting  his  wind, 
Joe  loses  his  temper,  and  strikes  at  the  old  man's  body. 

'  Blood,  blood  ! '  shout  the  crowd,  *  Joe's  head  's  broke  ! ' 

Who  'd  have  thought  it .?  How  did  it  come  ?  That  body- 
blow  left  Joe's  head  unguarded  for  a  moment,  and  with 
one  turn  of  the  wrist  the  old  gentleman  has  picked  a  neat 
little  bit  of  skin  off  the  middle  of  his  forehead,  and  though 

[43] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

he  won't  believe  it,  and  hammers  on  for  three  more  blows 
despite  of  the  shouts,  is  then  convinced  by  the  blood 
trickling  into  his  eye.  Poor  Joe  is  sadly  crestfallen,  and 
fumbles  in  his  pocket  for  the  other  half-sovereign,  but  the 
old  gamester  won't  have  it.  '  Keep  thy  money,  man,  and 
gi 's  thy  hand,'  says  he,  and  they  shake  hands;  but  the  old 
gamester  gives  the  new  hat  to  the  shepherd,  and,  soon 
after,  the  half-sovereign  to  Willum,  who  thereout  decorates 
his  sweetheart  with  ribbons  to  his  heart's  content. 

'  Who  can  a  be .'' '  '  Wur  do  a  cum  from  ? '  ask  the  crowd. 
And  it  soon  flies  about  that  the  old  West-country  champion, 
who  played  a  tie  with  Shaw  the  Life-guardsman  at  '  Vizes  ' 
twenty  years  before,  has  broken  Joe  Willis's  crown  for  him. 

How  my  country  fair  is  spinning  out !  I  see  I  must 
skip  the  wrestling,  and  the  boys  jumping  in  sacks,  and 
rolling  wheelbarrows  blindfolded  ;  and  the  donkey-race,  and 
the  fight  which  arose  thereout,  marring  the  otherwise 
peaceful  '  veast '  ;  and  the  frightened  scurrying  away  of 
the  female  feast-goers,  and  descent  of  Squire  Brown,  sum- 
moned by  the  wife  of  one  of  the  combatants  to  stop  it ; 
which  he  would  n't  start  to  do  till  he  had  got  on  his  top- 
boots.  Tom  is  carried  away  by  old  Benjy,  dog-tired  and 
surfeited  with  pleasure,  as  the  evening  comes  on  and  the 
dancing  begins  in  the  booths ;  and  though  Willum  and 
Rachel  in  her  new  ribbons  and  many  another  good  lad  and 
lass  don't  come  away  just  yet,  but  have  a  good  step  out, 
and  enjoy  it,  and  get  no  harm  thereby,  yet  we,  being  sober 
folk,  will  just  stroll  away  up  through  the  churchyard,  and 
by  the  old  yew-tree  ;  and  get  a  quiet  dish  of  tea  and  a 
parle  wath  our  gossips,  as  the  steady  ones  of  our  village  do, 
and  so  to  bed. 

[44] 


THE    REVELS    ARE    OVER 

That 's  the  fair  true  sketch,  as  far  as  it  goes,  of  one  of 
the  larger  village  feasts  in  the  Vale  of  Berks,  when  I  was 
a  little  boy.  They  are  much  altered  for  the  worse,  I  am 
told.  I  have  n't  been  at  one  these  twenty  years,  but  I  have 
been  at  the  statute  fairs  in  some  West-country  towns, 
where  servants  are  hired,  and  greater  abominations  cannot 
be  found.  What  village  feasts  have  come  to,  I  fear,  in 
many  cases,  may  be  read  in  the  pages  of  Yeast  (though  I 
never  saw  one  so  bad  —  thank  God!). 

Do  you  want  to  know  why }  It  is  because,  as  I  said  be- 
fore, gentlefolk  and  farmers  have  left  off  joining  or  taking 
an  interest  in  them.  They  don't  either  subscribe  to  the 
prizes,  or  go  down  and  enjoy  the  fun. 

Is  this  a  good  or  a  bad  sign  }  I  hardly  know.  Bad, 
sure  enough,  if  it  only  arises  from  the  further  separation 
of  classes  consequent  on  twenty  years  of  buying  cheap  and 
selling  dear,  and  its  accompanying  over-work ;  or  because 
our  sons  and  daughters  have  their  hearts  in  London  Club- 
life,  or  so-called  Society,  instead  of  in  the  old  English  home 
duties  ;  because  farmers'  sons  are  apeing  fine  gentlemen, 
and  farmers'  daughters  caring  more  to  make  bad  foreign 
music  than  good  English  cheeses.  Good,  perhaps,  if  it  be 
that  the  time  for  the  old  '  veast '  has  gone  by,  that  it  is 
no  longer  the  healthy  sound  expression  of  English  country 
holiday-making ;  that,  in  fact,  we  as  a  nation  have  got  be- 
yond it,  and  are  in  a  transition  state,  feeling  for  and  soon 
likely  to  find  some  better  substitute. 

Only  I  have  just  got  this  to  say  before  I  quit  the  text. 
Don't  let  reformers  of  any  sort  think  that  they  are  going 
really  to  lay  hold  of  the  working  boys  and  young  men  of 
England  by  any  educational  grapnel  whatever,  which  has  n't 

[45] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

some  bona  fide  equivalent  for  the  games  of  the  old  country 
'  veast '  in  it ;  something  to  put  in  the  place  of  the  back- 
swording  and  wrestling  and  racing ;  something  to  try  the 
muscles  of  men's  bodies,  and  the  endurance  of  their  hearts, 
and  to  make  them  rejoice  in  their  strength.  In  all  the 
new-fangled  comprehensive  plans  which  I  see,  this  is  all 
left  out :  and  the  consequence  is,  that  your  great  Mechanics' 
Institutes  end  in  intellectual  priggism,  and  your  Christian 
Young  Men's  Societies  in  religious  Pharisaism. 

Well,  well,  we  must  bide  our  time.  Life  is  n't  all  beer 
and  skittles,  —  but  beer  and  skittles,  or  something  better  of 
che  same  sort,  must  form  a  good  part  of  every  Englishman's 
education.  If  I  could  only  drive  this  into  the  heads  of  you 
rising  Parliamentary  Lords,  and  young  swells  who  '  have 
your  ways  made  for  you,'  as  the  saying  is,  —  you,  who  fre- 
quent palaver  houses  and  West-End  clubs,  waiting  always 
ready  to  strap  yourselves  on  to  the  back  of  poor  dear 
old  John,  as  soon  as  the  present  used-up  lot  (your  fathers 
and  uncles),  who  sit  there  on  the  great  Parliamentary- 
majorities'  pack-saddle,  and  make  believe  they  're  guiding 
him  with  their  red-tape  bridle,  tumble,  or  have  to  be 
lifted  oft  ! 

I  don't  think  much  of  you  yet  —  I  wish  I  could  ;  though 
you  do  go  talking  and  lecturing  up  and  down  the  country 
to  crowded  audiences,  and  are  busy  with  all  sorts  of  philan- 
thropic intellectualism,  and  circulating  libraries  and  museums, 
and  Heaven  only  knows  what  besides  ;  and  try  to  make  us 
think,  through  newspaper  reports,  that  you  are,  even  as  we, 
of  the  working  classes.  But,  bless  your  hearts,  we  '  ain't  so 
green,'  though  lots  of  us  of  all  sorts  toady  you  enough 
certainly,   and   try   to   make   you   think   so. 

[46] 


ADVICE  TO  YOUNG  SWELLS 

I  '11  tell  you  what  to  do  now  :  instead  of  all  this  trumpet- 
ing and  fuss,  which  is  only  the  old  Parliamentary-majority 
dodge  over  again  —  just  you  go  each  of  you  (you  've  plenty 
of  time  for  it,  if  you  '11  only  give  up  t'  other  line),  and 
quietly  make  three  or  four  friends,  real  friends,  among  us. 
You  '11  find  a  little  trouble  in  getting  at  the  right  sort, 
because  such  birds  don't  come  lightly  to  your  lure  —  but 
found  they  may  be.  Take,  say,  two  out  of  the  professions, 
lawyer,  parson,  doctor  —  which  you  will ;  one  out  of  trade, 
and  three  or  four  out  of  the  working  classes,  tailors,  en- 
gineers, carpenters,  engravers,  —  there  's  plenty  of  choice. 
Let  them  be  men  of  your  own  ages,  mind,  and  ask  them 
to  your  homes ;  introduce  them  to  your  wives,  and  sisters, 
and  get  introduced  to  theirs  :  give  them  good  dinners,  and 
talk  to  them  about  what  is  really  at  the  bottom  of  your 
hearts,  and  box,  and  run,  and  row  with  them,  when  you  have 
a  chance.  Do  all  this  honestly  as  man  to  man,  and  by  the 
time  you  come  to  ride  old  John,  you  '11  be  able  to  do  some- 
thing more  than  sit  on  his  back,  and  may  feel  his  mouth 
with  some  stronger  bridle  than  a  red-tape  one. 

Ah,  if  you  only  would  !  But  you  have  got  too  far  out 
of  the  right  rut,  I  fear.  Too  much  over-civilization  and 
the  deceitfulness  of  riches.  It  is  easier  for  a  camel  to  go 
through  the  eye  of  a  needle.  More  's  the  pity,  I  never 
came  across  but  two  of  you  who  could  value  a  man  wholly 
and  solely  for  what  was  in  him  ;  who  thought  themselves 
verily  and  indeed  of  the  same  flesh  and  blood  as  John  Jones 
the  attorney's  clerk,  and  Bill  Smith  the  costermonger,  and 
could  act  as  if  they  thought  so. 


[47] 


Gfiaptev 
SundrjWars  and  Ail'mme^ 

^jOOR  old  Benjy  !  the  '  rheumatiz  '  has  much 
to  answer  for  all  through  English  countr}- 
sides,  but  it  never  played  a  scurvier  trick 
than  in  laying  thee  by  the  heels,  when 
thou  wast  yet  in  a  green  old  age.  The 
enemy,  which  had  long  been  carr)-ing  on 
a  sort  of  border  warfare,  and  trying  his  strength  against 
Benjy 's  on  the  battlefield  of  his  hands  and  legs,  now,  mus- 
tering all  his  forces,  began  laying  siege  to  the  citadel,  and 
over-running  the  whole  countr}-.  Benjy  was  seized  in  the 
back  and  loins  ;  and  though  he  made  strong  and  brave  fight, 
it  was  soon  clear  enough  that  all  which  could  be  beaten  of 
poor  old  Benjy  would  have  to  give  in  before  long, 

[48] 


BENJY'S    DECLINE 

It  was  as  much  as  he  could  do  now,  with  the  help  of  his 
big  stick  and  frequent  stops,  to  hobble  down  to  the  canal 
with  Master  Tom,  and  bait  his  hook  for  him,  and  sit  and 
watch  his  angling,  telling  him  quaint  old  country  stories  ; 
and  when  Tom  had  no  sport,  and  detecting  a  rat  some 
hundred  yards  or  so  off  along  the  bank,  would  rush  off 
with  Toby  the  turnspit  terrier,  his  other  faithful  companion, 
in  bootless  pursuit,  he  might  have  tumbled  in  and  been 
drowned  twenty  times  over  before  Benjy  could  have  got 
near   him. 

Cheery  and  unmindful  of  himself  as  Benjy  was,  this 
loss  of  locomotive  power  bothered  him  greatly.  He  had 
got  a  new  object  in  his  old  age,  and  was  just  beginning  to 
think  himself  useful  again  in  the  world.  He  feared  much, 
too,  lest  Master  Tom  should  fall  back  again  into  the  hands 
of  Charity  and  the  women.  So  he  tried  everything  he 
could  think  of  to  get  set  up.  He  even  went  an  expedition 
to  the  dwelling  of  one  of  those  queer  mortals,  who  —  say 
what  we  will,  and.  reason  how  we  will  —  do  cure  simple 
people  of  diseases  of  one  kind  or  another  without  the  aid 
of  physic  ;  and  so  get  to  themselves  the  reputation  of  using 
charms,  and  inspire  for  themselves  and  their  dwellings  great 
respect,  not  to  say  fear,  amongst  a  simple  folk  such  as  the 
dwellers  in  the  Vale  of  White  Horse.  Where  this  power, 
or  whatever  else  it  may  be,  descends  upon  the  shoulders  of 
a  man  whose  ways  are  not  straight,  he  becomes  a  nuisance 
to  the  neighbourhood ;  a  receiver  of  stolen  goods,  giver 
of  love-potions,  and  deceiver  of  silly  women  ;  the  avowed 
enemy  of  law  and  order,  of  justices  of  the  peace,  head- 
boroughs,  and  gamekeepers.  .  .  .  Sometimes,  however,  they 
are  of  quite  a  different  stamp,  men  who  pretend  to  nothing, 

[49] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

and  are  with   difficulty  persuaded   to  exercise  their  occult 
arts  in  the  simplest  cases. 

Of  this  latter  sort  was  old  Farmer  Ives,  as  he  was  called, 
the  '  wise  man  '  to  whom  Benjy  resorted  (taking  Tom  with 
him  as  usual),  in  the  early  spring  of  the  year  next  after  the 
feast  described  in  the  last  chapter.  Why  he  was  called 
'  farmer  '  I  cannot  say,  unless  it  be  that  he  was  the  owner 
of  a  cow,  a  pig  or  two,  and  some  poultry,  which  he  main- 
tained on  about  an  acre  of  land  enclosed  from  the  middle 
of  a  wild  common,  on  which  probably  his  father  had  squatted 
before  lords  of  manors  looked  as  keenly  after  their  rights 
as  they  do  now.  Here  he  had  lived  no  one  knew  how  long, 
a  solitary  man.  It  was  often  rumoured  that  he  was  to  be 
turned  out  and  his  cottage  pulled  down,  but  somehow  it 
never  came  to  pass  ;  and  his  pigs  and  cow  went  grazing  on 
the  common,  and  his  geese  hissed  at  the  passing  children 
and  at  the  heels  of  the  horse  of  my  lord's  steward,  who 
often  rode  by  with  a  covetous  eye  on  the  enclosure,  still 
unmolested.  His  dwelling  was  some  miles  from  our  village  ; 
so  Benjy,  who  was  half  ashamed  of  his  errand,  and  wholly 
unable  to  walk  there,  had  to  exercise  much  ingenuity  to  get 
the  means  of  transporting  himself  and  Tom  thither  without 
exciting  suspicion.  However,  one  fine  May  morning  he 
managed  to  borrow  the  old  blind  pony  of  our  friend  the 
publican,  and  Tom  persuaded  Madam  Brown  to  give  him 
a  holiday  to  spend  with  old  Benjy,  and  to  lend  them  the 
Squire's  light  cart,  stored  with  bread  and  cold  meat  and  a 
bottle  of  ale.  And  so  the  two  in  high  glee  started  behind 
old  Dobbin,  and  jogged  along  the  deep-rutted  plashy  roads, 
which  had  not  been  mended  after  their  winter's  wear,  towards 
the  dwelling  of  the  wizard.     About  noon  they  passed  the 

[50] 


FARMER    IVES    THE    'WISE   MAN' 

gate  which  opened  on  to  the  large  common,  and  old  Dobbin 
toiled  slowly  up  the  hill,  while  Benjy  pointed  out  a  little  deep 


1 1//'-.. 


,5>#m;>*ri 


*Jimcs.  -n^,,,,,^ 


'OLD   DOBBIN  TOILED   SLOWLY  UP  THE   HILL' 

dingle  on  the  left,  out  of  which  welled  a  tiny  stream.  As 
they  crept  up  the  hill  the  tops  of  a  few  birch-trees  came  in 
sight  and  blue  smoke  curling  up  through  their  delicate  light 

[51] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

boughs  ;  and  then  the  Httle  white  thatched  home  and  patch 
of  enclosed  ground  of  Farmer  Ives,  lying  cradled  in  the 
dingle,  with  the  gay  gorse  common  rising  behind  and  on 
both  sides  ;  while  in  front,  after  traversing  a  gentle  slope, 
the  eye  might  travel  for  miles  and  miles  over  the  rich  vale. 
They  now  left  the  main  road  and  struck  into  a  green  track 
over  the  common  marked  lightly  with  wheel  and  horse-shoe, 
which  led  down  into  the  dingle  and  stopped  at  the  rough 
gate  of  Farmer  Ives.  Here  they  found  the  farmer,  an  iron- 
grey  old  man,  with  a  bushy  eyebrow  and  strong  aquiline 
nose,  busied  in  one  of  his  vocations.  He  was  a  horse  and 
cow  doctor,  and  was  tending  a  sick  beast  which  had  been 
sent  up  to  be  cured.  Benjy  hailed  him  as  an  old  friend, 
and  he  returned  the  greeting  cordially  enough,  looking, 
however,  hard  for  a  moment  both  at  Benjy  and  Tom,  to  see 
whether  there  was  more  in  their  visit  than  appeared  at  first 
sight.  It  was  a  work  of  some  difficulty  and  danger  for 
Benjy  to  reach  the  ground,  which,  however,  he  managed 
to  do  without  mishap  ;  and  then  he  devoted  himself  to  un- 
harnessing Dobbin,  and  turning  him  out  for  a  graze  ('  a  run ' 
one  could  not  say  of  that  virtuous  steed)  on  the  common. 
This  done,  he  extricated  the  cold  provisions  from  the  cart, 
and  they  entered  the  farmer's  wicket ;  and  he,  shutting  up 
the  knife  with  which  he  was  taking  maggots  out  of  the 
cow's  back  and  sides,  accompanied  them  towards  the  cottage. 
A  big  old  lurcher  got  up  slowly  from  the  door-stone,  stretch- 
ing first  one  hind  leg  and  then  the  other,  and  taking  Tom's 
caresses  and  the  presence  of  Toby,  who  kept,  however,  at 
a  respectful  distance,  with  equal  indifference, 

'  Us  be  cum  to  pay  'ee  a  visit.    I  've  a  been  long  minded 
to  do  't  for  old  sake's  sake,  only  I  vinds  I  dwon't  get  about 

[52J 


THE    FARMER'S    COTTAGE 

now  as  I'd  used  to 't,  I  be  so  plaguy  bad  wi'  th'  rumatiz 
in  my  back,'  Benjy  paused  in  hopes  of  drawing  the  farmer 
at  once  on  the  subject  of  his  ailments  without  further  direct 
application, 

'Ah,  I  see  as  you  bean't  quite  so  lissom  as  you  was,' 
replied  the  farmer  with  a  grim  smile,  as  he  lifted  the  latch 
of  his  door;  'we  bean't  so  young  as  we  was,  nother  on  us, 
wuss  luck.' 

The  farmer's  cottage  was  very  like  those  of  the  better 
class  of  peasantry  in  general,  A  snug  chimney  corner  with 
two  seats,  and  a  small  carpet  on  the  hearth,  an  old  flint  gun 
and  a  pair  of  spurs  over  the  fireplace,  a  dresser  with  shelves 
on  which  some  bright  pewter  plates  and  crockeryware  were 
arranged,  an  old  walnut  table,  a  few  chairs  and  settles,  some 
framed  samplers,  and  an  old  print  or  two,  and  a  bookcase 
with  some  dozen  volumes  on  the  walls,  a  rack  with  flitches 
of  bacon,  and  other  stores  fastened  to  the  ceiling,  and  you 
have  the  best  part  of  the  furniture.  No  sign  of  occult  art 
is  to  be  seen  unless  the  bundles  of  dried  herbs  hanging  to 
the  rack  and  in  the  ingle,  and  the  row  of  labelled  phials  on 
one  of  the  shelves,  betoken  it. 

Tom  played  about  with  some  kittens  who  occupied  the 
hearth,  and  with  a  goat  who  walked  demurely  in  at  the 
open  door,  while  their  host  and  Benjy  spread  the  table  for 
dinner  —  and  was  soon  engaged  in  conflict  with  the  cold 
meat,  to  Avhich  he  did  much  honour.  The  two  old  men's 
talk  was  of  old  comrades  and  their  deeds,  mute  inglorious 
Miltons  of  the  Vale,  and  of  the  doings  thirty  years  back  — 
which  didn't  interest  him  much^  except  when  they  spoke 
of  the  making  of  the  canal,  and  then,  indeed,  he  began  to 
listen  with  all  his  ears  ;  and  learned  to  his  no  small  wonder 

[53] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

that  his  dear  and  wonderful  canal  had  not  been  there  always 
—  was  not,  in  fact,  so  old  as  Benjy  or  Farmer  Ives,  which 
caused  a  strange  commotion  in  his  small  brain. 

After  dinner  Benjy  called  attention  to  a  wart  which  Tom 
had  on  the  knuckles  of  his  hand,  and  which  the  family  doc- 
tor had  been  trying  his  skill  on  without  success,  and  begged 
the  farmer  to  charm  it  away.  Farmer  Ives  looked  at  it, 
muttered  something  or  another  over  it,  and  cut  some  notches 
in  a  short  stick,  which  he  handed  to  Benjy,  giving  him 
instructions  for  cutting  it  down  on  certain  days,  and  cau- 
tioning Tom  not  to  meddle  with  the  wart  for  a  fortnight. 
And  then  they  strolled  out  and  sat  on  a  bench  in  the  sun 
with  their  pipes,  and  the  pigs  came  up  and  grunted  socia- 
bly and  let  Tom  scratch  them  ;  and  the  farmer,  seeing  how 
he  liked  animals,  stood  up  and  held  his  arms  in  the  air 
and  gave  a  call,  which  brought  a  flock  of  pigeons  wheeling 
and  dashing  through  the  birch-trees.  They  settled  down  in 
clusters  on  the  farmer's  arms  and  shoulders,  making  love 
to  him  and  scrambling  over  one  another's  backs  to  get  to 
his  face  ;  and  then  he  threw  them  all  off,  and  they  fluttered 
about  close  by,  and  lighted  on  him  again  and  again  when 
he  held  up  his  arms.  All  the  creatures  about  the  place 
were  clean  and  fearless,  quite  unlike  their  relations  else- 
where ;  and  Tom  begged  to  be  taught  how  to  make  all  the 
pigs  and  cows  and  poultry  in  our  village  tame,  at  which 
the  farmer  only  gave  one  of  his  grim  chuckles. 

It  wasn't  till  they  were  just  ready  to  go,  and  old  Dobbin 
was  harnessed,  that  Benjy  broached  the  subject  of  his  rheu- 
matism again,  detailing  his  symptoms  one  by  one.  Poor  old 
boy !  He  hoped  the  farmer  could  charm  it  away  as  easily 
as  he  could  Tom's  wart,  and  was  ready  with  equal  faith  to 

[54] 


EARLY   COMPANIONS 

put  another  notched  stick  into  his  other  pocket,  for  the 
cure  of  his  own  ailments.  The  physician  shook  his  head, 
but  nevertheless  produced  a  bottle  and  handed  it  to  Benjy 
with  instructions  for  use,  '  Not  as  't  '11  do  'ee  much  good 
—  leastways,  I  be  af eared  not,'  shading  his  eyes  with  his 
hand  and  looking  up  at  them  in  the  cart ;  '  there  's  only  one 
thing  as  I  knows  on,  as  '11  cure  old  folks  like  you  and  I 
o'  th'  rhumatis.' 

'  Wot  be  that  then,  farmer  ? '  inquired  Benjy. 

*  Churchyard  mould, '  said  the  old  iron-grey  man  with 
another  chuckle.  And  so  they  said  their  good-byes  and 
went  their  ways  home.  Tom's  wart  was  gone  in  a  fortnight, 
but  not  so  Benjy's  rheumatism,  which  laid  him  by  the  heels 
more  and  more.  And  though  Tom  still  spent  many  an 
hour  with  him,  as  he  sat  on  a  bench  in  the  sunshine,  or  by 
the  chimney  corner  when  it  was  cold,  he  soon  had  to  seek 
elsewhere  for  his  regular  companions. 

Tom  had  been  accustomed  often  to  accompany  his  mother 
in  her  visits  to  the  cottages,  and  had  thereby  made  acquaint- 
ance with  many  of  the  village  boys  of  his  own  age.  There 
was  Job  Rudkin,  son  of  widow  Rudkin,  the  most  bustling 
woman  in  the  parish.  How  she  could  ever  have  had  such 
a  stolid  boy  as  Job  for  a  child  must  always  remain  a  mystery. 
The  first  time  Tom  went  to  their  cottage  with  his  mother. 
Job  was  not  indoors,  but  he  entered  soon  after,  and  stood 
with  both  hands  in  his  pockets  staring  at  Tom.  Widow 
Rudkin,  who  would  have  had  to  cross  Madam  to  get  at 
young  Hopeful  —  a  breach  of  good  manners  of  which  she 
was  wholly  incapable  —  began  a  series  of  pantomime  signs, 
which  only  puzzled  him,  and  at  last,  unable  to  contain  her- 
self longer,  burst  out  with,  'Job!  Job!  where 's  thy  cap?' 

[55] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

*  What !  beant  'ee  on  ma'  head,  mother  ? '  rephed  Job, 
slowly  extricating  one  hand  from  a  pocket  and  feeling  for 
the  article  in  question  ;  which  he  found  on  his  head  sure 
enough,  and  left  there,  to  his  mother's  horror  and  Tom's 
great  delight. 

Then  there  was  poor  Jacob  Dodson,  the  half-witted  boy, 
who  ambled  abput  cheerfully,  undertaking  messages  and 
little  helpful  odds  and  ends  for  every  one,  which,  however, 
poor  Jacob  managed  always  hopelessly  to  embrangle.  Every- 
thing came  to  pieces  in  his  hands,  and  nothing  would  stop 
in  his  head.    They  nicknamed  him  Jacob  Doodle-calf. 

But  above  all  there  was  Harry  Winburn,  the  quickest 
and  best  boy  in  the  parish.  He  might  be  a  year  older  than 
Tom,  but  was  very  little  bigger,  and  he  was  the  Crichton 
of  our  village  boys.  He  could  wrestle  and  climb  and  run 
better  than  all  the  rest,  and  learned  all  that  the  school- 
master could  teach  him  faster  than  that  worthy  at  all  liked. 
He  was  a  boy  to  be  proud  of,  with  his  curly  brown  hair, 
keen  grey  eye,  straight  active  figure,  and  little  ears  and 
hands  and  feet,  'as  fine  as  a  lord's,'  as  Charity  remarked 
to  Tom  one  day,  talking  as  usual  great  nonsense.  Lords' 
hands  and  ears  and  feet  are  just  as  ugly  as  other  folks' 
when  they  are  children,  as  any  one  may  convince  himself 
if  he  likes  to  look.  Tight  boots  and  gloves,  and  doing 
nothing  with  them,  I  allow,  make  a  difference  by  the  time 
they  are  twenty. 

Now  that  Benjy  was  laid  on  the  shelf,  and  his  young 
brothers  were  still  under  petticoat  government,  Tom,  in 
search  of  companions,  began  to  cultivate  the  village  boys 
generally  more  and  more.  Squire  Brown,  be  it  said,  was  a 
true  blue  Tory  to  the  backbone,  and  believed  honestly  that 

[56] 


TOM    AND    THE    VILLAGE    BOYS 

the  powers  which  be  were  ordained  of  God,  and  that  loyalty 
and  steadfast  obedience  were  men's  first  duties.  Whether 
it  were  in  consequence  or  in  spite  of  his  political  creed,  I 
do  not  mean  to  give  an  opinion,  though  I  have  one  ;  but 
certain  it  is,  that  he  held  therewith  divers  social  principles 
not  generally  supposed  to  be  true  blue  in  colour.  Foremost 
of  these,  and  the  one  which  the  Squire  loved  to  propound 
above  all  others,  was  the  belief  that  a  man  is  to  be  valued 
wholly  and  solely  for  that  which  he  is  in  himself,  for  that 
which  stands  up  in  the  four  fleshly  walls  of  him,  apart  from 
clothes,  rank,  fortune,  and  all  externals  whatsoever.  Which 
belief  I  take  to  be  a  wholesome  corrective  of  all  political 
opinions,  and,  if  held  sincerely,  to  make  all  opinions  equally 
harmless,  whether  they  be  blue,  red,  or  green.  As  a  neces- 
sary corollary  to  this  belief.  Squire  Brown  held  further  that 
it  did  n't  matter  a  straw  whether  his  son  associated  with 
lords'  sons  or  ploughmen's  sons,  provided  they  were  brave 
and  honest.  He  himself  had  played  football  and  gone  birds'- 
nesting  with  the  farmers  whom  he  met  at  vestry  and  the 
labourers  who  tilled  'their  fields,  and  so  had  his  father  and 
grandfather  with  their  progenitors.  So  he  encouraged  Tom 
in  his  intimacy  with  the  boys  of  the  village,  and  for^varded 
it  by  all  means  in  his  power,  and  gave  them  the  run  of  a 
close  for  a  playground,  and  provided  bats  and  balls  and 
a  football  for  their  sports. 

Our  village  was  blessed  amongst  other  things  with  a 
well-endowed  school.  The  building  stood  by  itself,  apart 
from  the  master's  house,  on  an  angle  of  ground  where 
three  roads  met ;  an  old  grey  stone  building  with  a  steep 
roof  and  mullioned  windows.  On  one  of  the  opposite  angles 
stood  Squire  Brown's  stables  and  kennel,  with  their  backs 

[57] 


TOM  BROWN'S  SCHOOL- DAYS 

to  the  road,  over  which  towered  a  great  elm-tree  ;  on  the 
third  stood  the  village  carpenter  and  wheelwright's  large 
open  shop,  and  his  house  and  the  schoolmaster's,  with  long 
low  eaves   under  which  the  swallows   built  by  scores. 

The  moment  Tom's  lessons  were  over,  he  would  now 
get  him  down  to  this  corner  by  the  stables,  and  watch  till 
the  boys  came  out  of  school.  He  prevailed  on  the  groom 
to  cut  notches  for  him  in  the  bark  of  the  elm,  so  that  he 
could  climb  into  the  lower  branches,  and  there  he  would 
sit  watching  the  school  door,  and  speculating  on  the  possi- 
bility of  turning  the  elm  into  a  dwelling-place  for  himself 
and  friends  after  the  manner  of  the  Swiss  Family  Robinson. 
But  the  school  hours  were  long  and  Tom's  patience  short, 
so  that  soon  he  began  to  descend  into  the  street,  and  go 
and  peep  in  at  the  school  door  and  the  wheelwright's  shop, 
and  look  out  for  something  to  while  away  the  time.  Now 
the  wheelwright  was  a  choleric  man,  and,  one  fine  after- 
noon, returning  from  a  short  absence,  found  Tom  occupied 
with  one  of  his  pet  adzes,  the  edge  of  which  was  fast  van- 
ishing under  our  hero's  care.  A  speedy  flight  saved  Tom 
from  all  but  one  sound  cuff  on  the  ears,  but  he  resented 
this  unjustifiable  interruption  of  his  first  essays  at  carpen- 
tering, and  still  more  the  further  proceedings  of  the  wheel- 
wright, who  cut  a  switch  and  hung  it  over  the  door  of  his 
workshop,  threatening  to  use  it  upon  Tom  if  he  came 
within  twenty  yards  of  his  gate.  So  Tom,  to  retaliate, 
commenced  a  war  upon  the  swallows  who  dwelt  under  the 
wheelwright's  eaves,  whom  he  harassed  with  sticks  and 
stones,  and  being  fleeter  of  foot  than  his  enemy,  escaped 
all  punishment,  and  kept  him  in  perpetual  anger.  More- 
over, his  presence  about  the  school  door  began  to  incense 

[58] 


TOM'S    FOES 

the  master,  as  the  boys  in  that  neighbourhood  neglected 
their  lessons  in  consequence  :  and  more  than  once  he  issued 
into  the  porch,  rod  in  hand,  just  as  Tom  beat  a  hasty  retreat. 
And  he  and  the  wheelwright,  laying  their  heads  together, 
resolved  to  acquaint  the  Squire  with  Tom's  afternoon  occu- 
pations ;  but  in  order  to  do  it  with  effect,  determined  to 
take  him  captive  and  lead  him  away  to  judgement  fresh 
from  his  evil  doings.  This  they  would  have  found  some 
difficulty  in  doing,  had  Tom  continued  the  war  single- 
handed,  or  rather  single-footed,  for  he  would  have  taken 
to  the  deepest  part  of  Pebbly  Brook  to  escape  them  ;  but, 
like  other  active  powers,  he  was  ruined  by  his  alliances. 
Poor  Jacob  Doodle-calf  could  not  go  to  school  with  the 
other  boys,  and  one  fine  afternoon,  about  three  o'clock 
(the  school  broke  up  at  four),  Tom  found  him  ambling  about 
the  street,  and  pressed  him  into  a  visit  to  the  school-porch. 
Jacob,  always  ready  to  do  what  he  was  asked,  consented, 
and  the  two  stole  down  to  the  school  together.  Tom  first 
reconnoitred  the  wheelwright's  shop,  and  seeing  no  signs 
of  activity,  thought  all  safe  in  that  quarter,  and  ordered  at 
once  an  advance  of  all  his  troops  upon  the  school-porch. 
The  door  of  the  school  was  ajar,  and  the  boys  seated  on 
the  nearest  bench  at  once  recognized  and  opened  a  cor- 
respondence with  the  invaders.  Tom,  waxing  bold,  kept 
putting  his  head  into  the  school  and  making  faces  at  the 
master  when  his  back  was  turned.  Poor  Jacob,  not  in  the 
least  comprehending  the  situation,  and  in  high  glee  at  find- 
ing himself  so  near  the  school,  which  he  had  never  been 
allowed  to  enter,  suddenly,  in  a  fit  of  enthusiasm,  pushed  by 
Tom,  and  ambling  three  steps  into  the  school,  stood  there, 
looking  round  him  and  nodding  with  a  self-approving  smile. 

[59] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

The  master,  who  was  stooping  over  a  boy's  slate,  with  his 
back  to  the  door,  became  aware  of  something  unusual,  and 
turned  quickly  round.  Tom  rushed  at  Jacob,  and  began 
dragging  him  back  by  his  smock-frock,  and  the  master 
made  at  them,  scattering  forms  and  boys  in  his  career. 
Even  now  they  might  have  escaped,  but  that  in  the  porch, 
barring  retreat,  appeared  the  crafty  wheelwright,  who  had 
been  watching  all  their  proceedings.  So  they  were  seized, 
the  school  dismissed,  and  Tom  and  Jacob  led  away  to 
Squire  Brown  as  lawful  prize,  the  boys  following  to  the 
gate  in  groups,  and  speculating  on  the  result. 

The  Squire  was  very  angry  at  first,  but  the  interview,  by 
Tom's  pleading,  ended  in  a  compromise.  Tom  was  not  to 
go  near  the  school  till  three  o'clock,  and  only  then  if  he 
had  done  his  own  lessons  well,  in  which  case  he  was  to 
be  the  bearer  of  a  note  to  the  master  from  Squire  Brown, 
and  the  master  agreed  in  such  case  to  release  ten  or  twelve 
of  the  best  boys  an  hour  before  the  time  of  breaking  up, 
to  go  off  and  play  in  the  close.  The  wheelwright's  adzes 
and  swallows  were  to  be  for  ever  respected ;  and  that  hero 
and  the  master  withdrew  to  the  servants'  hall  to  drink  the 
Squire's  health,  well  satisfied  with  their  day's  work. 

The  second  act  of  Tom's  life  may  now  be  said  to  have 
begun.  The  war  of  independence  had  been  over  for  some 
time  :  none  of  the  w^omen  now,  not  even  his  mother's  maid, 
dared  offer  to  help  him  in  dressing  or  washing.  Between 
ourselves,  he  had  often  at  first  to  run  to  Benjy  in  an 
unfinished  state  of  toilet ;  Charity  and  the  rest  of  them 
seemed  to  take  a  delight  in  putting  impossible  buttons  and 
ties  in  the  middle  of  his  back  ;  but  he  would  have  gone 
without  nether  integuments  altogether,  sooner  than  have  had 

[60] 


G5«Ct^U5>^-*'^nr^ 


'POOR   JACOB  .  .  .  STOOD   THERE,    LOOKING    ROUND    H  I  xM 
AND    NODDING   WITH    A    SEL  F- A  PPROVING  SMILE' 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

recourse  to  female  valeting.  He  had  a  room  to  himself,  and 
his  father  gave  him  sixpence  a  week  pocket-money.  All 
this  he  had  achieved  by  Benjy's  advice  and  assistance. 
But  now  he  had  conquered  another  step  in  life,  the  step 
which  all  real  boys  so  long  to  make  ;  he  had  got  amongst 
his  equals  in  age  and  strength,  and  could  measure  himself 
with  other  boys  ;  he  lived  with  those  whose  pursuits  and 
wishes  and  ways  were  the  same  in  kind  as  his  own. 

The  little  governess  who  had  lately  been  installed  in  the 
house  found  her  work  grow  wondrously  easy,  for  Tom 
slaved  at  his  lessons  in  order  to  make  sure  of  his  note  to 
the  schoolmaster.  So  there  were  very  few  days  in  the  week 
in  which  Tom  and  the  village  boys  were  not  playing  in  their 
close  by  three  o'clock.  Prisoner's  base,  rounders,  high-cock- 
a-lorum,  cricket,  football,  he  was  soon  initiated  into  the 
delights  of  them  all ;  and  though  most  of  the  boys  were 
older  than  himself,  he  managed  to  hold  his  own  very  well. 
He  was  naturally  active  and  strong,  and  quick  of  eye  and 
hand,  and  had  the  advantage  of  light  shoes  and  well-fitting 
dress,  so  that  in  a  short  time  he  could  run  and  jump  and 
climb  with  any  of  them. 

They  generally  finished  their  regular  games  half  an  hour 
or  so  before  tea-time,  and  then  began  trials  of  skill  and 
strength  in  many  ways.  Some  of  them  w-ould  catch  the 
Shetland  pony  who  was  turned  but  in  the  field,  and  get 
two  or  three  together  on  his  back,  and  the  little  rogue,  en- 
joying the  fun,  would  gallop  off  for  fifty  yards  and  then 
turn  round,  or  stop  short  and  shoot  them  on  to  the  turf, 
and  then  graze  quietly  on  till  he  felt  another  load  ;  others 
played  peg-top  or  marbles,  while  a  few  of  the  bigger  ones 
stood  up  for  a  bout  at  wrestling.    Tom  at  first  only  looked 

[62] 


^^^,^x..,.-v.A'^^:^,g 


I  i)/A'4. 


( (^ 


,KV?tir>ii*!m. 


'THE  LITTLE  ROGUE  .  .  .  WOULD  .  .  .  STOP  SHORT  AND 
SHOOT  THEM  ON  TO  THE  TURF' 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

on  at  this  pastime,  but  it  had  pecuHar  attractions  for  him, 
and  he  could  not  long  keep  out  of  it.  Elbow  and  collar 
wrestling  as  practised  in  the  western  counties  was,  next  to 
back-swording,  the  way  to  fame  for  the  youth  of  the  \''ale  ; 
and  all  the  boys  knew  the  rules  of  it,  and  were  more  or 
less  expert.  But  Job  Rudkin  and  Harry  Winburn  were  the 
stars,  the  former  stiff  and  sturdy,  with  legs  like  small  towers, 
the  latter  pliant  as  india-rubber,  and  quick  as  lightning.  Day 
after  day  they  stood  foot  to  foot,  and  offered  first  one  hand 
and  then  the  other,  and  grappled  and  closed  and  swayed 
and  strained,  till  a  well-aimed  crook  of  the  heel  or  thrust 
of  the  loin  took  effect,  and  a  fair  back-fall  ended  the  matter. 
And  Tom  watched  with  all  his  eyes,  and  first  challenged 
one  of  the  less  scientific,  and  threw  him  ;  and  so  one  by 
one  wrestled  his  way  up  to  the  leaders. 

Then,  indeed,  for  months  he  had  a  poor  time  of  it ;  it 
was  not  long,  indeed,  before  he  could  manage  to  keep  his 
legs  against  Job,  for  that  hero  was  slow  of  offence,  and 
gained  his  victories  chiefly  by  allowing  others  to  throw 
themselves  against  his  immovable  legs  and  loins.  But 
Harry  Winburn  was  undeniably  his  master ;  from  the  first 
clutch  of  hands  when  they  stood  up,  down  to  the  last  trip 
which  sent  him  on  to  his  back  on  the  turf,  he  felt  that 
Harry  knew  more  and  could  do  more  than  he.  Luckily, 
Harry's  bright  unconsciousness,  and  Tom's  natural  good 
temper,  kept  them  from  ever  quarrelling ;  and  so  Tom 
worked  on  and  on,  and  trod  more  and  more  nearly  on 
Harry's  heels,  and  at  last  mastered  all  the  dodges  and  falls 
except  one.  This  one  was  Harry's  own  particular  invention 
and  pet ;  he  scarcely  ever  used  it  except  when  hard  pressed, 
but  then  out  it  came,  and  as  sure  as  it  did,  over  went  poor 

[64] 


NEIGHBOURHOOD   RAMBLES 

Tom,  He  thought  about  that  fall  at  his  meals,  in  his  walks, 
when  he  lay  awake  in  bed,  in  his  dreams  —  but  all  to  no 
purpose  ;  until  Harry  one  day  in  his  open  way  suggested 
to  him  how  he  thought  it  should  be  met,  and  in  a  week 
from  that  time  the  boys  were  equal,  save  only  the  slight 
difference  of  strength  in  Harry's  favour,  which  some  extra 
ten  months  of  age  gave.  Tom  had  often  afterwards  reason 
to  be  thankful  for  that  early  drilling,  and  above  all  for 
having   mastered    Harry  Winburn's   fall. 

Besides  their  home  games,  on  Saturdays  the  boys  would 
wander  all  over  the  neighbourhood  ;  sometimes  to  the  downs, 
or  up  to  the  camp,  where  they  cut  their  initials  out  in  the 
springy  turf,  and  watched  the  hawks  soaring,  and  the  '  peert ' 
bird,  as  Harry  Winburn  called  the  grey  plover,  gorgeous  in 
his  wedding  feathers  ;  and  so  home,  racing  down  the  Manger 
with  many  a  roll  among  the  thistles,  or  through  Uffington 
Wood  to  watch  the  fox  cubs  playing  in  the  green  rides  ; 
sometimes  to  Rosy  Brook,  to  cut  long  whispering  reeds 
which  grew  there,  to  make  pan-pipes  of  ;  sometimes  to  Moor 
Mills,  where  was  a  piece  of  old  forest  land,  with  short 
browsed  turf  and  tufted  brambly  thickets  stretching  under 
the  oaks,  amongst  which  rumour  declared  that  a  raven,  last 
of  his  race,  still  lingered  ;  or  to  the  sand-hills,  in  vain  quest 
of  rabbits ;  and  birds'-nesting,  in  the  season,  anywhere 
and   everywhere. 

The  few  neighbours  of  the  Squire's  own  rank  every  now 
and  then  would  shrug  their  shoulders  as  they  drove  or  rode 
by  a  party  of  boys  with  Tom  in  the  middle,  carrying  along 
bulrushes  or  w^hispering  reeds,  or  great  bundles  of  cowslip 
and  meadow-sweet,  or  young  starlings  or  magpies,  or  other 
spoil  of  wood,   brook,   or  meadow :    and    Lawyer   Red-tape 

[65] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

might  mutter  to  Squire  Straightback  at  the  Board,  that  no 
good  would  come  of  the  young  Browns,  if  they  were  let 
run  wild  with  all  the  dirty  village  boys,  whom  the  best 
farmers'  sons  even  would  not  play  with.  And  the  Squire 
might  reply  with  a  shake  of  his  head,  that  his  sons  only 
mixed  with  their  equals,  and  never  went  into  the  village 
without  the  governess  or  a  footman.  But,  luckily.  Squire 
Brown  was  full  as  stiff-backed  as  his  neighbours,  and  so 
went  on  his  own  way ;  and  Tom  and  his  younger  brothers, 
as  they  grew  up,  went  on  playing  with  the  village  boys, 
without  the  idea  of  equality  or  inequality  (except  in  wrestling, 
running,  and  climbing)  ever  entering  their  heads,  as  it  does  n't 
till  it 's  put  there  by  Jack  Nastys  or  fine  ladies'  maids. 

I  don't  mean  to  say  it  would  be  the  case  in  all  villages, 
but  it  certainly  was  so  in  this  one  ;  the  village  boys  were 
full  as  manly  and  honest,  and  certainly  purer  than  those  in 
a  higher  rank  ;  and  Tom  got  more  harm  from  his  equals  in 
his  first  fortnight  at  a  private  school  where  he  went  when 
he  was  nine  years  old,  than  he  had  from  his  village  friends 
from  the  day  he  left  Charity's  apron-strings. 

Great  was  the  grief  amongst  the  village  schoolboys  when 
Tom  drove  off  with  the  Squire,  one  August  morning,  to 
meet  the  coach  on  liis  way  to  school.  Each  of  them  had 
given  him  some  little  present  of  the  best  that  he  had,  and 
his  small  private  box  was  full  of  peg-tops,  white  marbles 
(called  '  alley-taws  '  in  the  X'ale),  screws,  birds'-eggs,  whip- 
cord, jews-harps,  and  other  miscellaneous  boys'  wealth. 
Poor  Jacob  Doodle-calf,  in  floods  of  tears,  had  pressed  upon 
him  with  spluttering  earnestness  his  lame  pet  hedgehog  (he 
had  always  some  poor  broken-down  beast  or  bird  by  him) ; 
but  this  Tom  had  been  obliged  to  refuse  by  the  Squire's 

[66] 


FIRST    SCHOOL 

order.  He  had  given  them  all  a  great  tea  under  the  big 
elm  in  their  playground,  for  which  Madam  Brown  had  sup- 
plied the  biggest  cake  ever  seen  in  our  village  ;  and  Tom 
was  really  as  sorry  to  leave  them  as  they  to  lose  him,  but 
his  sorrow  was  not  unmixed  with  the  pride  and  excitement 
of  making  a  new  step  in  life. 

And  this  feeling  carried  him  through  his  first  parting 
with  his  mother  better  than  could  have  been  expected. 
Their  love  was  as  fair  and  whole  as  human  love  can  be, 
perfect  self-sacrifice  on  the  one  side,  meeting  a  young  and 
true  heart  on  the  other.  It  is  not  within  the  scope  of  my 
book,  however,  to  speak  of  family  relations,  or  I  should 
have  much  to  say  on  the  subject  of  English  mothers,  — 
aye,  and  of  English  fathers,  and  sisters,  and  brothers  too. 

Neither  have  I  room  to  speak  of  our  private  schools  : 
what  I  have  to  say  is  about  public  schools,  those  much 
abused  and  much  belauded  institutions  peculiar  to  England. 
So  we  must  hurry  through  Master  Tom's  year  at  a  private 
school  as  fast  as  we  can. 

It  was  a  fair  average  specimen,  kept  by  a  gentleman, 
with  another  gentleman  as  second  master ;  but  it  was  little 
enough  of  the  real  work  they  did  —  merely  coming  into 
school  when  lessons  were  prepared  and  all  ready  to  be 
heard.  The  whole  discipline  of  the  school  out  of  lesson 
hours  was  in  the  hands  of  the  two  ushers,  one  of  whom 
was  always  with  the  boys  in  their  playground,  in  the  school, 
at  meals  —  in  fact,  at  all  times  and  ever}^vhere,  till  they 
were  fairly  in  bed  at  night. 

Now  the  theory  of  private  schools  is  (or  was)  constant 
supervision  out  of  school ;  therein  differing  fundamentally 
from  that  of  public  schools. 

[67] 


TOM  BROWN'S  SCHOOL- DAYS 

It  may  be  right  or  wrong ;  but  if  right,  this  supervision 
surely  ought  to  be  the  especial  work  of  the  head  master, 
the  responsible  person.  The  object  of  all  schools  is  not  to 
ram  Latin  and  Greek  into  boys,  but  to  make  them  good 
English  boys,  good  future  citizens  ;  and  by  far  the  most 
important  part  of  that  work  must  be  done,  or  not  done,  out 
of  school  hours.  To  leave  it,  therefore,  in  the  hands  of 
inferior  men,  is  just  giving  up  the  highest  and  hardest  part 
of  the  work  of  education.  Were  I  a  private  schoolmaster, 
I  should  say,  let  who  will  hear  the  boys  their  lessons,  but 
let  me  live  with  them  when  they  are  at  play  and  rest. 

The  two  ushers  at  Tom's  first  school  were  not  gentle- 
men, and  very  poorly  educated,  and  were  only  driving  their 
poor  trade  of  usher  to  get  such  living  as  they  could  out  of 
it.  They  were  not  bad  men,  but  had  little  heart  for  their 
work,  and  of  course  were  bent  on  making  it  as  easy  as 
possible.  One  of  the  methods  by  which  they  endeavoured 
to  accomplish  this  was  by  encouraging  tale-bearing,  which 
had  become  a  frightfullv  common  vice  in  the  school  in 
consequence,  and  had  sapped  all  the  foundations  of  school 
morality.  Another  was,  by  favouring  grossly  the  biggest 
boys,  u  ho  alone  could  have  given  them  much  trouble ; 
whereby  those  young  gentlemen  became  most  abominable 
tyrants,  oppressing  the  little  boys  in  all  the  small  mean 
ways  which  prevail  in  private  schools. 

Poor  little  Tom  was  made  dreadfully  unhappy  in  his 
first  week  by  a  catastrophe  which  happened  to  his  first 
letter  home.  With  huge  labour  he  had,  on  the  very  eve- 
ning of  his  arrival,  managed  to  fill  two  sides  of  a  sheet  of 
letter-paper  with  assurances  of  his  love  for  dear  mamma,  his 
happiness  at  school,  and  his  resolves  to  do  all  she  would 

[68] 


FIRST    LETTER    HOME 

wish.  This  missive,  with  the  help  of  the  boy  who  sat  at 
the  desk  next  him,  also  a  new  arrival,  he  managed  to  fold 
successfully  ;  but  this  done,  they  were  sadly  put  to  it  for 
means  of  sealing.  Envelopes  were  then  unknown,  they  had 
no  wax,  and  dared  not  disturb  the  stillness  of  the  evening 
school-room  by  getting  up  and  going  to  ask  the  usher  for 
some.  At  length  Tom's  friend,  being  of  an  ingenious  turn  of 
mind,  suggested  sealing  with  ink,  and  the  letter  was  accord- 
ingly stuck  down  with  a  blob  of  ink,  and  duly  handed  by 
Tom,  on  his  way  to  bed,  to  the  housekeeper  to  be  posted. 
It  was  not  till  four  days  afterwards  that  that  good  dame 
sent  for  him,  and  produced  the  precious  letter,  and  some 
wax,  saying,  '  Oh,  Master  Brown,  I  forgot  to  tell  you  before, 
but  your  letter  is  n't  sealed.'  Poor  Tom  took  the  wax  in 
silence  and  sealed  his  letter,  with  a  huge  lump  rising  in  his 
throat  during  the  process,  and  then  ran  away  to  a  quiet 
corner  of  the  playground,  and  burst  into  an  agony  of  tears. 
The  idea  of  his  mother  waiting  day  after  day  for  the  letter 
he  had  promised  her  at  once,  and  perhaps  thinking  him 
forgetful  of  her,  when  he  had  done  all  in  his  power  to 
make  good  his  promise,  was  as  bitter  a  grief  as  any  which 
he  had  to  undergo  for  many  a  long  year.  His  wrath  then 
was  proportionately  violent  when  he  was  aware  of  two  boys, 
who  stopped  close  by  him,  and  one  of  whom,  a  fat  gaby  of 
a  fellow,  pointed  at  him,  and  called  him  '  Young  mammy- 
sick  !  '  Whereupon  Tom  arose,  and  giving  vent  thus  to  his 
grief  and  shame  and  rage,  smote  his  derider  on  the  nose 
and  made  it  bleed  —  which  sent  that  young  worthy  howling 
to  the  usher,  who  reported  Tom  for  violent  and  unprovoked 
assault  and  batter^^  Hitting  in  the  face  was  a  felony  pun- 
ishable with  flogging,  other  hitting  only  a  misdemeanour  — 

[69] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

a  distinction  not  altogether  clear  in  principle.  Tom,  however, 
escaped  the  penalty  by  pleading  '  primum  tempus ' ;  and 
having  written  a  second  letter  to  his  mother,  enclosing  some 
forget-me-nots,  which  he  picked  on  their  first  half-holiday 
walk,  felt  quite  happy  again,  and  began  to  enjoy  vastly  a 
good  deal  of  his  new  life. 

These  half-holiday  walks  were  the  great  events  of  the 
week.  The  whole  fifty  boys  started  after  dinner  with  one 
of  the  ushers  for  Mazeldown,  which  was  distant  some  mile 
or  so  from  the  school.  Hazcldown  measured  some  three 
miles  round,  and  in  the  neighbourhood  were  several  woods 
full  of  all  manner  of  birds  and  butterflies.  The  usher 
walked  slowly  round  the  down  with  such  boys  as  liked  to 
accompany  him  ;  the  rest  scattered  in  all  directions,  being 
only  bound  to  appear  again  when  the  usher  had  completed 
his  round,  and  accompany  him  home.  They  were  forbidden, 
however,  to  go  anywhere  except  on  the  down  and  into 
the  woods,  the  village  being  especially  prohibited,  where 
huge  bulls'-eyes  and  unctuous  toffee  might  be  procured  in 
exchange  for  coin  of  the  realm. 

Various  were  the  amusements  to  which  the  boys  then 
betook  themselves.  At  the  entrance  of  the  down  there 
was  a  steep  hillock,  like  the  barrows  of  Tom's  own  downs. 
This  mound  was  the  weekly  scene  of  terrific  combats,  at  a 
game  called  by  the  queer  name  of  'mud-patties.'  The  boys 
who  played  divided  into  sides  under  different  leaders,  and 
one  side  occupied  the  mound.  Then,  all  parties  having 
provided  themselves  with  many  sods  of  turf,  cut  with  their 
bread-and-cheese  knives,  the  side  which  remained  at  the 
bottom  proceeded  to  assault  the  mound,  advancing  up  on 
all   sides   under  cover  of  a  heavy  fire  of  turfs,  and  then 

[70] 


THE    AMUSEMENTS 

struggling  for  victory  with  the  occupants,  which  was  theirs  as 
soon  as  they  could,  even  for  a  moment,  clear  the  summit, 
when  they  in  turn  became  the  besieged.  It  was  a  good 
rough  dirty  game,  and  of  great  use  in  counteracting  the 
sneaking  tendencies  of  the  school.  Then  others  of  the  boys 
spread  over  the  downs,  looking  for  the  holes  of  humble-bees 
and  mice,  which  they  dug  up  without  mercy,  often  (I  regret 
to  say)  killing  and  skinning  the  unlucky  mice,  and  (I  do 
not  regret  to  say)  getting  well  stung  by  the  humble-bees. 
Others  went  after  butterflies  and  birds '-eggs  in  their  seasons  ; 
and  Tom  found  on  Hazeldown,  for  the  first  time,  the  beau- 
tiful little  blue  butterfly  with  golden  spots  on  his  wings, 
which  he  had  never  seen  on  his  own  downs,  and  dug  out 
his  first  sand-martin's  nest.  This  latter  achievement  resulted 
in  a  flogging,  for  the  sand-martins  built  in  a  high  bank  close 
to  the  village,  consequently  out  of  bounds  ;  but  one  of  the 
bolder  spirits  of  the  school,  who  never  could  be  happy  unless 
he  was  doing  something  to  which  risk  attached,  easily  per- 
suaded Tom  to  break  bounds  and  visit  the  martin's  bank. 
From  whence  it  being  only  a  step  to  the  toffee  shop,  what 
could  be  more  simple  than  to  go  on  there  and  fill  their 
pockets  ;  or  what  more  certain  than  that  on  their  return,  a 
distribution  of  treasure  having  been  made,  the  usher  should 
shortly  detect  the  forbidden  smell  of  bulls'-eyes,  and,  a 
search  ensuing,  discover  the  state  of  the  breeches-pockets 
of  Tom  and  his  ally  ? 

This  ally  of  Tom's  was  indeed  a  desperate  hero  in  the 
sight  of  the  boys,  and  feared  as  one  who  dealt  in  magic, 
or  something  approaching  thereto.  Which  reputation  came  to 
him  in  this  wise.  The  boys  went  to  bed  at  eight,  and  of 
course  consequently  lay  awake  in  the  dark  for  an  hour  or 

[71] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

two,  telling  ghost-stories  by  turns.  One  night  when  it  came 
to  his  turn,  and  he  had  dried  up  their  souls  by  his  story, 
he  suddenly  declared  that  he  would  make  a  fiery  hand 
appear  on  the  door ;  and  to  the  astonishment  and  terror  of 
the  boys  in  his  room,  a  hand,  or  something  like  it,  in  pale 
light,  did  then  and  there  appear.  The  fame  of  this  exploit 
having  spread  to  the  other  rooms,  and  being  discredited 
there,  the  young  necromancer  declared  that  the  same  won- 
der would  appear  in  all  the  rooms  in  turn,  which  it  accord- 
ingly did  ;  and  the  whole  circumstances  having  been  privately 
reported  to  one  of  the  ushers  as  usual,  that  functionary, 
after  listening  about  at  the  doors  of  the  rooms,  by  a  sud- 
den descent  caught  the  performer  in  his  night-shirt,  with  a 
box  of  phosphorus  in  his  guilty  hand.  Lucifer-matches 
and  all  the  present  facilities  for  getting  acquainted  with 
fire  were  then  unknown ;  the  very  name  of  phosphorus 
had  something  diabolic  in  it  to  the  boy-mind  ;  so  Tom's 
ally,  at  the  cost  of  a  sound  flogging,  earned  what  many 
older  folk  covet  much  —  the  very  decided  fear  of  most  of 
his  companions. 

He  was  a  remarkable  boy,  and  by  no  means  a  bad  one. 
Tom  stuck  to  him  till  he  left,  and  got  into  many  scrapes 
by  so  doing.  But  he  was  the  great  opponent  of  the  tale- 
bearing habits  of  the  school,  and  the  open  enemy  of  the 
ushers  ;  and  so  worthy  of  all  support. 

Tom  imbibed  a  fair  amount  of  Latin  and  Greek  at  the 
school,  but  somehow  on  the  whole  it  did  n't  suit  him,  or 
he  it,  and  in  the  holidays  he  was  constantly  working  the 
Squire  to  send  him  at  once  to  a  public  school.  Great  was 
his  joy,  then,  when  in  the  middle  of  his  third  half-year, 
in  October,    183 -,  a  fever  broke  out  in  the  village,  and 

[72] 


TOM    LEAVES    HIS    FIRST    SCHOOL 

the  master  having  himself  slightly  sickened  of  it,  the  whole 
of  the  boys  were  sent  off  at  a  day's  notice  to  their  respec- 
tive homes. 

The  Squire  was  not  quite  so  pleased  as  Master  Tom  to 
see  that  young  gentleman's  brown  merry  face  appear  at 
home,  some  two  months  before  the  proper  time,  for  Christ- 
mas holidays  :  and  so  after  putting  on  his  thinking  cap,  he 
retired  to  his  study  and  wrote  several  letters,  the  result  of 
which  was,  that  one  morning  at  the  breakfast-table,  about  a 
fortnight  after  Tom's  return,  he  addressed  his  wife  with  — 
'  My  dear,  I  have  arranged  that  Tom  shall  go  to  Rugby  at 
once,  for  the  last  six  weeks  of  this  half-year,  instead  of 
wasting  them,  riding  and  loitering  about  home.  It  is  very  kind 
of  the  Doctor  to  allow  it.  Will  you  see  that  his  things  are 
all  ready  by  Friday,  when  I  shall  take  him  up  to  town,  and 
send  him  down  the  next  day  by  himself.' 

Mrs,  Brown  was  prepared  for  the  announcement,  and 
merely  suggested  a  doubt  whether  Tom  were  yet  old  enough 
to  travel  by  himself.  However,  finding  both  father  and  son 
against  her  on  this'  point,  she  gave  in  like  a  wise  woman, 
and  proceeded  to  prepare  Tom's  kit  for  his  launch  into  a 
public  school. 


[73] 


'-if-'v':^^'i'. 


'^■^h'--^ 


o     /r! 


n      A^ 


^^ 


W'vi/"-,.,,  ■     l*«^A^  ../fe*.. 


Jf,^v5^(i'  ^-^'^*'*'*'^ 


Chaptfer  IV 

'  Let  the  steam-pot  hiss  till  it  'j  hot. 
Give  me  the  speed  of  the  Tantivy  trot. ' 

R.  E.  E.  Warburton,  'Coaching  Song'' 


^xiivj^-A  'V?^^^'    ^^^'    ^^"^^   ^*^   S^^   "P'   ^^   y°^   please. 
t^*"'   a"   i   Tallv-ho  coach  for  Leicester  '11   be  round 


Tally 

in  half  an  hour,  and  don't  wait  for  nobody.' 
So  spake  the  Boots  of  the  Peacock  Inn, 
Islington,  at  half-past  two  o'clock  on  the 
morning  of  a  day  in  the  early  part  of 
November,  183-,  giving  Tom  at  the  same  time  a  shake  by 
the  shoulder,  and  then  putting  down  a  candle  and  carr)'ing 
off  his  shoes  to  clean. 

[74] 


THE    PEACOCK,    ISLINGTON 

Tom  and  his  father  had  arrived  in  town  from  Berkshire 
the  day  before,  and  finding,  on  inquiry,  that  the  Birming- 
ham coaches  which  ran  from  the  city  did  not  pass  through 
Rugby,  but  deposited  their  passengers  at  Dunchurch,  a 
village  three  miles  distant  on  the  main  road,  where  said 
passengers  had  to  wait  for  the  Oxford  and  Leicester  coach 
in  the  evening,  or  to  take  a  postchaise  —  had  resolved  that 
Tom  should  travel  down  by  the  Tally-ho,  which  diverged 
from  the  main  road  and  passed  through  Rugby  itself.  And 
as  the  Tally-ho  was  an  early  coach,  they  had  driven  out  to 
the  Peacock  to  be  on  the  road. 

Tom  had  never  been  in  London,  and  would  have  liked 
to  have  stopped  at  the  Belle  Savage,  where  they  had  been 
put  down  by  the  Star,  just  at  dusk,  that  he  might  have  gone 
roving  about  those  endless,  mysterious,  gas-lit  streets,  which, 
with  their  glare  and  hum  and  moving  crowds,  excited 
him  so  that  he  could  n't  talk  even.  But  as  soon  as  he 
found  that  the  Peacock  arrangement  would  get  him  to 
Rugby  by  twelve  o'clock  in  the  day,  whereas  otherwise  he 
would  n't  be  there  till  the  evening,  all  other  plans  melted 
away ;  his  one  absorbing  aim  being  to  become  a  public- 
school  boy  as  fast  as  possible,  and  six  hours  sooner  or  later 
seeming  to  him  of  the  most  alarming  importance. 

Tom  and  his  father  had  alighted  at  the  Peacock,  at  about 
seven  in  the  evening ;  and  having  heard  with  unfeigned  joy 
the  paternal  order  at  the  bar,  of  steaks  and  oyster-sauce  for 
supper  in  half  an  hour,  and  seen  his  father  seated  cosily 
by  the  bright  fire  in  the  coffee-room  with  the  paper  in  his 
hand  —  Tom  had  run  out  to  see  about  him,  had  wondered 
at  all  the  vehicles  passing  and  repassing,  and  had  frater- 
nized with  the  boots  and  ostler,  from  whom  he  ascertained 

[75] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

that  the  Tally-ho  was  a  tiptop  goer,  ten  miles  an  hour 
including  stoppages,  and  so  punctual  that  all  the  road  set 
their  clocks  by  her. 

Then  being  summoned  to  supper,  he  had  regaled  himself 
in  one  of  the  bright  little  boxes  of  the  Peacock  coffee-room, 
on  the  beef-steak  and  unlimited  oyster-sauce,  and  brown 
stout  (tasted  then  for  the  first  time  —  a  day  to  be  marked 
for  ever  by  Tom  with  a  white  stone) ;  had  at  first  attended 
to  the  excellent  advice  which  his  father  was  bestowing  on 
him  from  over  his  glass  of  steaming  brandy  and  water,  and 
then  begun  nodding,  from  the  united  effects  of  the  stout, 
the  fire,  and  the  lecture.  Till  the  Squire,  observing  Tom's 
state,  and  remembering  that  it  was  nearly  nine  o'clock,  and 
that  the  Tally-ho  left  at  three,  sent  the  little  fellow  off  to 
the  chambermaid,  with  a  shake  of  the  hand  (Tom  having 
stipulated  in  the  morning  before  starting,  that  kissing  should 
now  cease  between  them)  and  a  few  parting  words. 

'And  now,  Tom,  my  boy,'  said  the  Squire,  'remember 
you  are  going,  at  your  own  earnest  request,  to  be  chucked 
into  this  great  school,  like  a  young  bear,  with  all  your 
troubles  before  you  —  earlier  than  we  should  have  sent  you 
perhaps.  If  schools  are  what  they  were  in  my  time,  you  '11 
see  a  great  many  cruel  blackguard  things  done,  and  hear 
a  deal  of  foul  bad  talk.  But  never  fear.  You  tell  the 
truth,  keep  a  brave  and  kind  heart,  and  never  listen  to  or 
say  anything  you  would  n't  have  your  mother  and  sister 
hear,  and  you  '11  never  feel  ashamed  to  come  home,  or 
we   to   see  you.' 

The  allusion  to  his  mother  made  Tom  feel  rather  chokey, 
and  he  would  have  liked  to  have  hugged  his  father  well,  if 
it  had  n't  been  for  the  recent  stipulation. 

[76] 


THE    SQUIRE'S    MEDITATION 

As  it  was,  he  only  squeezed  his  father's  hand,  and  looked 
bravely  up  and  said,  '  I  '11  try,  father.' 

'  I  know  you  will,  my  boy.     Is  your  money  all  safe  ? ' 

'Yes,'  said  Tom,  diving  into  one  pocket  to  make  sure. 

'  And  your  keys  ? '  said  the  Squire. 

'All  right,'  said  Tom,  diving  into  the  other  pocket. 

'  Well  then,  good  night.  God  bless  you  !  I  '11  tell  Boots 
to  call  you,  and  be  up  to  see  you  off.' 

Tom  was  carried  off  by  the  chambermaid  in  a  brown 
study,  from  which  he  was  roused  in  a  clean  little  attic,  by 
that  buxom  person  calling  him  a  little  darling,  and  kissing 
him  as  she  left  the  room  ;  which  indignity  he  was  too  much 
surprised  to  resent.  And  still  thinking  of  his  father's  last 
words,  and  the  look  with  which  they  were  spoken,  he  knelt 
down  and  prayed,  that  come  what  might,  he  might  never 
bring  shame  or  sorrow  on  the  dear  folk  at  home. 

Indeed,  the  Squire's  last  words  deserved  to  have  their 
effect,  for  they  had  been  the  result  of  much  anxious  thought. 
All  the  way  up  to  London  he  had  pondered  what  he  should 
say  to  Tom  by  way  of  parting  advice  ;  something  that  the 
boy  could  keep  in  his  head  ready  for  use.  By  way  of  assist- 
ing meditation,  he  had  even  gone  the  length  of  taking  out 
his  flint  and  steel,  and  tinder,  and  hammering  away  for  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  till  he  had  manufactured  a  light  for  a 
long  Trichinopoli  cheroot,  which  he  silently  puffed  ;  to  the 
no  small  wonder  of  Coachee,  who  was  an  old  friend,  and 
an  institution  on  the  Bath  road  ;  and  who  always  expected 
a  talk  on  the  prospects  and  doings,  agricultural  and  social, 
of  the  whole  county,  when  he  carried  the  Squire. 

To  condense  the  Squire's  meditation,  it  was  somewhat  as 
follows  :  '  I  won't  tell  him  to  read  his  Bible,  and  love  and 

[77] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

serve  God  ;  if  he  don't  do  that  for  his  mother's  sake  and 
teaching,  he  won't  for  mine.  Shall  I  go  into  the  sort  of 
temptations  he  '11  meet  with  ?  No,  I  can't  do  that.  Never 
do  for  an  old  fellow  to  go  into  such  things  with  a  boy.  He 
won't  understand  me.  Do  him  more  harm  than  good,  ten 
to  one.  Shall  I  tell  him  to  mind  his  work,  and  say  he  's 
sent  to  school  to  make  himself  a  good  scholar  ?  Well,  but 
he  isn't  sent  to  school  for  that  —  at  any  rate,  not  for  that 
mainly.  I  don't  care  a  straw  for  Greek  particles,  or  the 
digamma,  no  more  does  his  mother.  What  is  he  sent  to 
school  for  .-*  Well,  partly  because  he  wanted  so  to  go.  If 
he  '11  only  turn  out  a  brave,  helpful,  truth-telling  English- 
man, and  a  gentleman,  and  a  Christian,  that's  all  I  want,' 
thought  the  Squire  ;  and  upon  this  view  of  the  case  framed 
his  last  words  of  advice  to  Tom,  which  were  well  enough 
suited  to  his  purpose. 

For  they  were  Tom's  first  thoughts  as  he  tumbled  out  of 
bed  at  the  summons  of  Boots,  and  proceeded  rapidly  to  wash 
and  dress  himself.  At  ten  minutes  to  three  he  was  down 
in  the  coffee-room  in  his  stockings,  carr^-ing  his  hat-box, 
coat,  and  comforter  in  his  hand  ;  and  there  he  found  his 
father  nursing  a  bright  fire,  and  a  cup  of  hot  coffee  and  a 
hard  biscuit  on  the  table. 

'  Now  then,  Tom,  give  us  your  things  here,  and  drink 
this  ;  there  's  nothing  like  starting  warm,  old  fellow.' 

Tom  addressed  himself  to  the  coffee,  and  prattled  away 
while  he  worked  himself  into  his  shoes  and  his  great  coat, 
well  warmed  through  ;  a  Petersham  coat  with  velvet  collar, 
made  tight  after  the  abominable  fashion  of  those  days. 
And  just  as  he  is  swallowing  his  last  mouthful,  winding 
his  comforter  round  his  throat,  and  tucking  the  ends  into 

[78] 


'THE    TALLY-HO' 

the  breast  of  his  coat,  the  horn  sounds,  Boots  looks  in  and 
says,  '  Tally-ho,  sir ; '  and  they  hear  the  ring  and  the  rattle 
of  the  four  fast  trotters  and  the  town-made  drag,  as  it 
dashes  up  to  the  Peacock. 

'  Anything  for  us,  Bob  I '  says  the  burly  guard,  dropping 
down  from  behind,  and  slapping  himself  across  the  chest. 

'Young  genl'm'n,  Rugby;  three  parcels,  Leicester; 
hamper   o'   game,    Rugby,'   answers   Ostler. 

'Tell  young  gent  to  look  alive,'  says  guard,  opening  the 
hind  boot  and  shooting  in  the  parcels  after  examining  them 
by  the  lamps.  '  Here,  shove  the  portmanteau  up  a-top  — 
I  '11  fasten  him  presently.     Now  then,  sir,  jump  up  behind.' 

'Good-bye,  father  —  my  love  at  home.'  A  last  shake  of 
the  hand.  Up  goes  Tom,  the  guard  catching  his  hat-box 
and  holding  on  with  one  hand,  while  with  the  other  he 
claps  the  horn  to  his  mouth.  Toot,  toot,  toot !  the  ostlers 
let  go  their  heads,  the  four  bays  plunge  at  the  collar,  and 
away  goes  the  Tally-ho  into  the  darkness,  forty-five  seconds 
from  the  time  they  pulled  up ;  Ostler,  Boots,  and  the  Squire 
stand  looking  after  them  under  the  Peacock  lamp. 

'  Sharp  work !  '  says  the  Squire,  and  goes  in  again  to  his 
bed,  the  coach  being  well  out  of  sight  and  hearing. 

Tom  stands  up  on  the  coach  and  looks  back  at  his 
father's  figure  as  long  as  he  can  see  it,  and  then  the  guard, 
having  disposed  of  his  luggage,  comes  to  an  anchor,  and 
finishes  his  buttonings  and  other  preparations  for  facing  the 
three  hours  before  dawn  ;  no  joke  for  those  who  minded 
cold,  on  a  fast  coach  in  November,  in  the  reign  of  his 
late  Majesty. 

I  sometimes  think  that  you  boys  of  this  generation  are 
a  deal  tenderer  fellows  than  we  used  to  be.     At  any  rate 

[79] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

you  're  much  more  comfortable  travellers,  for  I  see  every 
one  of  you  with  his  rug  or  plaid,  and  other  dodges  for  pre- 
serving the  caloric,  and  most  of  you  going  in  those  fuzzy, 
dusty,  padded  first-class  carriages.  It  was  another  affair 
altogether,  a  dark  ride  on  the  top  of  the  Tally-ho,  I  can 
tell  you,  in  a  tight  Petersham  coat,  and  your  feet  dangling 
six  inches  from  the  floor.  Then  you  knew  what  cold  was, 
and  what  it  was  to  be  without  legs,  for  not  a  bit  of  feeling 
had  you  in  them  after  the  first  half-hour.  But  it  had  its 
pleasures,  the  old  dark  ride.  First  there  was  the  conscious- 
ness of  silent  endurance,  so  dear  to  every  Englishman,  — 
of  standing  out  against  something,  and  not  giving  in.  Then 
there  was  the  music  of  the  rattling  harness,  and  the  ring 
of  the  horses'  feet  on  the  hard  road,  and  the  glare  of  the 
two  bright  lamps  through  the  steaming  hoar  frost,  over 
the  leaders'  ears,  into  the  darkness ;  and  the  cheery  toot  of 
the  guard's  horn,  to  warn  some  drowsy  pikeman  or  the  ostler 
at  the  next  change;  and  the  looking  forward  to  daylight  — 
and  last  but  not  least,  the  delight  of  returning  sensation  in 
your  toes. 

Then  the  break  of  dawn  and  the  sunrise,  where  can  they 
be  ever  seen  in  perfection  but  from  a  coach  roof  ?  You 
want  motion  and  change  and  music  to  see  them  in  their 
glory  ;  not  the  music  of  singing-men  and  singing-women, 
but  good  silent  music,  which  sets  itself  in  your  own  head, 
the  accompaniment  of  work  and  getting  over  the  ground. 

The  Tally-ho  is  past  St,  Alban's,  and  Tom  is  enjoying 
the  ride,  though  half-frozen.  The  guard,  who  is  alone  with 
him  on  the  back  of  the  coach,  is  silent,  but  has  muffled 
Tom's  feet  up  in  straw,  and  put  the  end  of  an  oat-sack  over 
his  knees.     The  darkness  has  driven  him  inwards,  and  he 

[80] 


A    NOVEMBER    RIDE 

has  gone  over  his  Httle  past  Hfe,  and  thought  of  all  his  do- 
ings and  promises,  and  of  his  mother  and  sister,  and  his 
father's  last  words  ;  and  has  made  fifty  good  resolutions, 
and  means  to  bear  himself  like  a  brave  Brown  as  he  is, 
though  a  young  one.  Then  he  has  been  forward  into  the 
mysterious  boy-future,  speculating  as  to  what  sort  of  a  place 
Rugby  is,  and  what  they  do  there,  and  calling  up  all  the 
stories  of  public  schools  which  he  has  heard  from  big  boys 
in  the  holidays.  He  is  chock-full  of  hope  and  life,  notwith- 
standing the  cold,  and  kicks  his  heels  against  the  back 
board,  and  would  like  to  sing,  only  he  does  n't  know  how 
his  friend  the  silent  guard  might  take  it. 

And  now  the  dawn  breaks  at  the  end  of  the  fourth  stage, 
and  the  coach  pulls  up  at  a  little  road-side  inn  with  huge 
stables  behind.  There  is  a  bright  fire  gleaming  through  the 
red  curtains  of  the  bar-window,  and  the  door  is  open.  The 
coachman  catches  his  whip  into  a  double  thong,  and  throws 
it  to  the  ostler ;  the  steam  of  the  horses  rises  straight  up 
into  the  air.  He  has  put  them  along  over  the  last  two 
miles,  and  is  two  minutes  before  his  time  ;  he  rolls  down 
from  the  box  and  into  the  inn.  The  guard  rolls  off  behind. 
*  Now,  sir,'  says  he  to  Tom,  'you  just  jump  down,  and  I  '11 
give  you  a  drop  of  something  to  keep  the  cold  out.' 

Tom  finds  a  difhculty  in  jumping,  or  indeed  in  finding 
the  top  of  the  wheel  with  his  feet,  which  may  be  in  the 
next  world  for  all  he  feels  ;  so  the  guard  picks  him  off 
the  coach-top,  and  sets  him  on  his  legs,  and  they  stump  off 
into  the  bar,  and  join  the  coachman  and  the  other  outside 
passengers. 

Here  a  fresh-looking  barmaid  serves  them  each  with  a 
glass  of  early  purl  as  they  stand  before  the  fire,  coachman 

[8i] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

and  guard  exchanging  business  remarks.  The  purl  warms 
the  cockles  of  Tom's  heart,  and  makes  him  cough. 

'  Rare  tackle,  that,  sir,  of  a  cold  morning,'  says  the 
coachman,  smiling.  'Time's  up.'  They  are  out  again  and 
up  ;  coachee  the  last,  gathering  the  reins  into  his  hands 
and  talking  to  Jem  the  ostler  about  the  mare's  shoulder, 
and  then  swinging  himself  up  on  to  the  box  —  the  horses 
dashing  off  in  a  canter  before  he  falls  into  his  seat.  Toot- 
toot-tootle-too  goes  the  horn,  and  away  they  are  again,  five- 
and-thirty  miles  on  their  road  (nearly  half-way  to  Rugby, 
thinks  Tom),  and  the  prospect  of  breakfast  at  the  end  of 
the  stage. 

And  now  they  begin  to  see,  and  the  early  life  of  the 
country-side  comes  out ;  a  market-cart  or  two,  men  in 
smock-frocks  going  to  their  work  pipe  in  mouth,  a  whiff 
of  which  is  no  bad  smell  this  bright  morning.  The  sun 
gets  up,  and  the  mist  shines  like  silver  gauze.  They  pass 
the  hounds  jogging  along  to  a  distant  meet,  at  the  heels  of 
the  huntsman's  hack,  w^hose  face  is  about  the  colour  of  the 
tails  of  his  old  pink,  as  he  exchanges  greetings  wdth  coach- 
man and  guard.  Now  they  pull  up  at  a  lodge,  and  take 
on  board  a  well-muffled-up  sportsman,  with  his  gun-case  and 
carpet-bag.  An  early  up-coach  meets  them,  and  the  coach- 
men gather  up  their  horses,  and  pass  one  another  with  the 
accustomed  lift  of  the  elbow,  each  team  doing  eleven  mile 
an  hour,  with  a  mile  to  spare  behind  if  necessary.  And 
here  comes  breakfast. 

•Twenty  minutes  here,  gentlemen,'  says  the  coachman, 
as  they  pull  up  at  half-past  seven  at  the  inn  door. 

Have  we  not  endured  nobly  this  morning,  and  is  not  this 
a  worthy  reward  for  much  endurance  ?    There  is  the  low, 

[82] 


RARE   TACKLE,    THAT,    SIR,   OF   A   COLD    MORNING," 
SAYS   THE   COACHMAN' 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

dark  wainscoted  room  hung  with  sporting  prints  ;  the  hat- 
stand  (with  a  whip  or  two  standing  up  in  it  belonging  to 
bagmen  who  are  still  snug  in  bed)  by  the  door ;  the  blazing 
fire,  with  the  quaint  old  glass  over  the  mantelpiece,  in  which 
is  stuck  a  large  card  with  the  list  of  the  meets  for  the  week 
of  the  county  hounds.  The  table  covered  with  the  whitest 
of  cloths  and  of  china,  and  bearing  a  pigeon-pie,  ham, 
round  of  cold  boiled  beef  cut  from  a  mammoth  ox,  and  the 
great  loaf  of  household  bread  on  a  wooden  trencher.  And 
here  comes  in  the  stout  head-waiter,  puffing  under  a  tray 
of  hot  viands ;  kidneys  and  a  steak,  transparent  rashers 
and  poached  eggs,  buttered  toast  and  muffins,  coffee  and 
tea,  all  smoking  hot.  The  table  can  never  hold  it  all ;  the 
cold  meats  are  removed  to  the  sideboard,  they  were  only 
put  on  for  show  and  to  give  us  an  appetite.  And  now  fall 
on,  gentlemen  all.  It  is  a  w'ell-known  sporting-house,  and 
the  breakfasts  are  famous.  Two  or  three  men  in  pink,  on 
their  way  to  the  meet,  drop  in,  and  are  very  jovial  and 
sharp-set,  as,  indeed,  we  all  are. 

'  Tea  or  coffee,  sir  ? '  says  head-waiter,  coming  round 
to  Tom. 

'  Coffee,  please,'  says  Tom,  with  his  mouth  full  of  muffin 
and  kidney ;  coffee  is  a  treat  to  him,  tea  is  not. 

Our  coachman,  I  perceive,  who  breakfasts  with  us,  is  a 
cold  beef  man.  He  also  eschews  hot  potations,  and  addicts 
himself  to  a  tankard  of  ale,  which  is  brought  him  by  the 
barmaid.  Sportsman  looks  on  approvingly,  and  orders  a 
ditto  for  himself. 

Tom  has  eaten  kidney  and  pigeon-pie,  and  imbibed  coffee, 
till  his  little  skin  is  as  tight  as  a  drum  ;  and  then  has  the 
further  pleasure  of  paying  head-waiter  out  of  his  own  purse, 

[84] 


'AND   HERE  COMES   IN   THE   STOUT   HEAD-WAITER' 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

in  a  dignified  manner,  and  walks  out  before  the  inn  door 
to  see  the  horses  put  to.  This  is  done  leisurely  and  in  a 
highly  finished  manner  by  the  ostlers,  as  if  they  enjoyed  the 
not  being  hurried.  Coachman  comes  out  with  his  way-bill 
and  puffing  a  fat  cigar  which  the  sportsman  has  given  him. 
Guard  emerges  from  the  tap,  where  he  prefers  breakfasting, 
licking  round  a  tough-looking  doubtful  cheroot,  which  you 
might  tie  round  your  finger,  and  three  whiffs  of  which 
would  knock  any  one  else  out  of  time. 

The  pinks  stand  about  the  inn  door  lighting  cigars  and 
waiting  to  see  us  start,  while  their  hacks  are  led  up  and 
down  the  market-place  on  which  the  inn  looks.  They  all 
know  our  sportsman,  and  we  feel  a  reflected  credit  when 
we  see  him  chatting  and  laughing  with  them. 

'  Now,  sir,  please,'  says  the  coachman  ;  all  the  rest  of  the 
passengers  are  up  ;  the  guard  is  locking  the  hind  boot. 

'A  good  run  to  you!'  says  the  sportsman  to  the  pinks, 
and  is  by  the  coachman's  side  in  no  time. 

'  Let  'em  go,  Dick  !  '  The  ostlers  fly  back,  drawing  off  the 
cloths  from  their  glossy  loins,  and  away  we  go  through 
the  market-place  and  down  the  High  Street,  looking  in  at 
the  first-floor  windows,  and  seeing  several  worthy  burgesses 
shaving  thereat ;  while  all  the  shop-boys  who  are  cleaning 
the  windows,  and  housemaids  who  are  doing  the  steps,  stop 
and  look  pleased  as  we  rattle  past,  as  if  we  were  a  part  of 
their  legitimate  morning's  amusement.  We  clear  the  town, 
and  are  well  out  between  the  hedgerows  again  as  the  town 
clock  strikes  eight. 

The  sun  shines  almost  warmlv,  and  breakfast  has  oiled 
all  springs  and  loosened  all  tongues.  Tom  is  encouraged 
by  a  remark  or  two  of  the  guard's  between  the  puffs  of  his 

[86] 


GUARD    DISCOURSES    ON    RUGBY 

oily  cheroot,  and  besides  is  getting  tired  of  not  talking. 
He  is  too  full  of  his  destination  to  talk  about  anything  else ; 
and  so  asks  the  guard  if  he  knows  Rugby. 

'  Goes  through  it  every  day  of  my  life.  Twenty  minutes 
afore  twelve  down  —  ten  o'clock  up.' 

'  What  sort  of  a  place  is  it,  please  ? '  says  Tom. 

Guard  looks  at  him  with  a  comical  expression.  '  Werry 
out-o'-the-way  place,  sir ;  no  paving  to  streets,  nor  no  light- 
ing. 'Mazin'  big  horse  and  cattle  fair  in  autumn  —  lasts  a 
week  —  just  over  now.  Takes  town  a  week  to  get  clean 
after  it.  Fairish  hunting  country.  But  slow  place,  sir,  slow 
place  :  off  the  main  road  you  see  —  only  three  coaches  a 
day,  and  one  on  'em  a  two-oss  wan,  more  like  a  hearse  nor  a 
coach  —  Regulator  —  comes  from  Oxford.  Young  genl'm'n 
at  school  calls  her  Pig  and  Whistle,  and  goes  up  to  college 
by  her  (six  miles  an  hour)  when  they  goes  to  enter.  Belong 
to  school,  sir  ? ' 

'  Yes  ; '  says  Tom,  not  unwilling  for  a  moment  that  the 
guard  should  think  him  an  old  boy.  But  then  having  some 
qualms  as  to  the  truth  of  the  assertion,  and  seeing  that  if 
he  were  to  assume  the  character  of  an  old  boy  he  could  n't 
go  on  asking  the  questions  he  wanted,  added  —  '  that  is  to 
say,  I'm  on  my  way  there.    I'm  a  new  boy.' 

The  guard  looked  as  if  he  knew  this  quite  as  well  as  Tom. 

'You  're  werr)-  late,  sir,'  says  the  guard  ;  'only  six  weeks 
to-day  to  the  end  of  the  half.'  Tom  assented.  '  We  takes 
up  fine  loads  this  day  six  weeks,  and  Monday  and  Tuesday 
arter.  Hopes  we  shall  have  the  pleasure  of  carrying  you 
back.' 

Tom  said  he  hoped  they  would  ;  but  he  thought  within 
himself  that  his  fate  would  probably  be  the  Pig  and  Whistle. 

[87] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

*It  pays  uncommon  cert'nly,'  continues  the  guard.  'Werry 
free  with  their  cash  is  the  young  genl'm'n.  But,  Lor'  bless 
you,  we  gets  into  such  rows  all  'long  the  road,  what  wi'  their 
pea-shooters,  and  long  whips,  and  hollering,  and  upsetting 
every  one  as  comes  by;  I'd  a  sight  sooner  carry  one  or 
two  on  'em,  sir,  as  I  may  be  a  carryin'  of  you  now,  than 
a  coach-load.' 

'  What  do  they  do  with  the  pea-shooters  .-' '  inquires  Tom. 

'  Do  wi'  'em  !  why,  peppers  every  one's  faces  as  we  comes 
near,  'cept  the  young  gals,  and  breaks  windows  wi'  them 
too,  some  on  'cm  shoots  so  hard.  Now  'twas  just  here  last 
June,  as  we  was  a-driving  up  the  first-day  boys,  they  was 
mendin'  a  quarter-mile  of  road,  and  there  was  a  lot  of  Irish 
chaps,  reg'lar  roughs,  a-breaking  stones.  As  we  comes  up, 
"  Now,  boys,"  says  young  gent  on  the  box  {smart  young 
fellow  and  desper't  reckless),  "  here's  fun  !  let  the  Pats  have 
it  about  the  ears."  "  God's  sake,  sir!  "  says  Bob  (that's  my 
mate  the  coachman),  "don't  go  for  to  shoot  at  'em,  they'll 
knock  us  off  the  coach."  "  Damme,  Coachee,"  says  young 
my  lord,  "you  ain't  afraid;  hoora,  boys!  let  'em  have  it." 
"  Hoora !  "  sings  out  the  others,  and  fill  their  mouths 
chock-full  of  peas  to  last  the  whole  line.  ]Sob,  seeing  as 
't  was  to  come,  knocks  his  hat  over  his  eyes,  hollers  to  his 
'osses,  and  shakes  'em  up,  and  away  we  goes  up  to  the 
line  on  'em,  twenty  miles  an  hour.  The  Pats  begin  to 
hoora  too,  thinking  it  was  a  nmaway,  and  first  lot  on  'em 
stands  grinnin'  and  wavin'  their  old  hats  as  we  comes 
abreast  on  'em  ;  and  then  you  'd  ha'  laughed  to  see  how 
took  aback  and  choking  savage  they  looked,  when  they  gets 
the  peas  a-stinging  all  over  'em.  But  bless  you,  the  laugh 
were  n't  all  of  our  side,  sir,  by  a  long  way.    We  was  going 

[88] 


BATTLE   WITH    THE    PATS 

so  fast,  and  they  was  so  took  aback,  that  they  did  n't  take 
what  was  up  till  we  was  half-way  up  the  line.  Then  't  was, 
"look  out  all,"  surely.  They  howls  all  down  the  line  fit 
to  frighten  you,  some  on  'em  runs  arter  us  and  tries  to 
clamber  up  behind,  only  we  hits  'em  over  the  fingers  and 
pulls  their  hands  off ;  one  as  had  had  it  very  sharp  act'ly 
runs  right  at  the  leaders,  as  though  he  'd  ketch  'em  by  the 
heads,  only  luck'ly  for  him  he  misses  his  tip,  and  comes 
over  a  heap  o'  stones  first.  The  rest  picks  up  stones,  and 
gives  it  us  right  away  till  we  gets  out  of  shot,  the  young 
gents  holding  out  werry  manful  with  the  pea-shooters  and 
such  stones  as  lodged  on  us,  and  a  pretty  many  there  was 
too.  Then  Bob  picks  hisself  up  again,  and  looks  at  young 
gent  on  box  werry  solemn.  Bob  'd  had  a  rum  un  in  the  ribs, 
which 'd  like  to  ha'  knocked  him  off  the  box,  or  made  him 
drop  the  reins.  Young  gent  on  box  picks  hisself  up,  and 
so  does  we  all,  and  looks  round  to  count  damage.  Box's 
head  cut  open  and  his  hat  gone  ;  'nother  young  gent's  hat 
gone  :  mine  knocked  in  at  the  side,  and  not  one  on  us  as 
wasn't  black  and  blue  somewheres  or  another,  most  on  'em 
all  over.  Two  pound  ten  to  pay  for  damage  to  paint,  which 
they  subscribed  for  there  and  then,  and  give  Bob  and  me  a 
extra  half-sovereign  each  ;  but  I  would  n't  go  down  that  line 
again  not  for  twenty  half-sovereigns.'  And  the  guard  shook 
his  head  slowly,  and  got  up  and  blew  a  clear  brisk  toot,  toot. 

*  What  fun  !  '  said  Tom,  who  could  scarcely  contain  his 
pride  at  this  exploit  of  his  future  schoolfellows.  He  longed 
already  for  the  end  of  the  half  that  he  might  join  them. 

'  'Taint  such  good  fun  though,  sir,  for  the  folk  as  meets 
the  coach,  nor  for  we  who  has  to  go  back  with  it  next  day. 
Them  Irishers  last  summer  had  all  got  stones  ready  for  us, 

[89J 


TOM  BROWN'S  SCHOOL- DAYS 

and  was  all  but  letting  drive,  and  we  'd  got  two  reverend 
gents  aboard  too.  We  pulled  up  at  the  beginning  of  the 
line,  and  pacified  them,  and  we  're  never  going  to  carry  no 
more  pea-shooters,  unless  they  promises  not  to  fire  where 
there  's  a  line  of  Irish  chaps  a  stone-breaking.'  The  guard 
stopped  and  pulled  away  at  his  cheroot,  regarding  Tom 
benignantly   the   while. 

'  Oh,  don't  stop !  tell  us  something  more  about  the 
pea-shooting.' 

'  Well,  there  'd  like  to  have  been  a  pretty  piece  of  work 
over  it  at  Bicester,  a  while  back.  We  was  six  mile  from  the 
town,  when  we  meets  an  old  square-headed  grey-haired  yeo- 
man chap,  a-jogging  along  quite  quiet.  He  looks  up  at  the 
coach,  and  just  then  a  pea  hits  him  on  the  nose,  and  some 
catches  his  cob  behind  and  makes  him  dance  up  on  his 
hind-legs.  I  see'd  the  old  boy's  face  flush  and  look  plaguy 
awkward,  and  I  thought  we  was  in  for  somethin'  nasty. 

'  He  turns  his  cob's  head,  and  rides  quietly  after  us  just 
out  of  shot.  How  that  ere  cob  did  step!  we  never  shook 
him  off  not  a  dozen  yards  in  the  six  miles.  At  first  the 
young  gents  was  werry  lively  on  him  ;  but  afore  we  got  in, 
seeing  how  steady  the  old  chap  come  on,  they  was  quite 
quiet,  and  laid  their  heads  together  what  they  should  do. 
Some  was  for  fighting,  some  for  axing  his  pardon.  He  rides 
into  the  town  close  after  us,  comes  up  when  we  stops,  and 
says  the  two  as  shot  at  him  must  come  before  a  magistrate  ; 
and  a  great  crowd  comes  round,  and  we  could  n't  get  the 
osses  to.  But  the  young  uns  they  all  stand  by  one  another, 
and  says  all  or  none  must  go,  and  as  how  they  'd  fight  it 
out,  and  have  to  be  carried.  Just  as  'twas  gettin'  serious, 
and  the  old  boy  and  the  mob  was  going  to  pull  'em  off  the 

[90] 


BLOW-HARD    AND    HIS    YARNS 

coach,  one  little  fellow  jumps  up  and  says,  "  Here  —  I  '11 
stay — I'm  only  going  three  miles  further.  My  father's 
name  's  Davis,  he  's  known  about  here,  and  I  '11  go  before 
the  magistrate  with  this  gentleman."  "  What !  be  thee 
parson  Davis's  son.?"  says  the  old  boy.  "Yes,"  says  the 
young  un.  "  Well,  I  be  mortal  sorry  to  meet  thee  in  such 
company,  but  for  thy  father's  sake  and  thine  (for  thee  bi'st 
a  brave  young  chap)  I'll  say  no  more  about  it."  Didn't 
the  boys  cheer  him,  and  the  mob  cheered  the  young  chap 
—  and  then  one  of  the  biggest  gets  down,  and  begs  his 
pardon  werry  gentlemanly  for  all  the  rest,  saying  as  they 
all  had  been  plaguy  vexed  from  the  first,  but  did  n't  like  to 
ax  his  pardon  till  then,  'cause  they  felt  they  had  n't  ought 
to  shirk  the  consequences  of  their  joke.  And  then  they  all 
got  down,  and  shook  hands  with  the  old  boy,  and  asked 
him  to  all  parts  of  the  country,  to  their  homes,  and  we 
drives  off  twenty  minutes  behind  time,  with  cheering  and 
hollering  as  if  we  was  county  members.  But,  Lor'  bless 
you,  sir,'  says  the  guard,  smacking  his  hand  down  on  his 
knee  and  looking  full  into  Tom's  face,  'ten  minutes  arter 
they  was  all  as  bad  as  ever.' 

Tom  showed  such  undisguised  and  open-mouthed  interest 
in  his  narrations,  that  the  old  guard  rubbed  up  his  memory, 
and  launched  out  into  a  graphic  history  of  all  the  perform- 
ances of  the  boys  on  the  roads  for  the  last  twenty  years. 
Off  the  road  he  could  n't  go  ;  the  exploit  must  have  been 
connected  with  horses  or  vehicles  to  hang  in  the  old  fellow's 
head.  Tom  tried  him  off  his  own  ground  once  or  twice, 
but  found  he  knew  nothing  beyond,  and  so  let  him  have 
his  head,  and  the  rest  of  the  road  bowled  easily  away  ;  for 
old  Blow-hard  (as  the  boys  called  him)  was  a  dry  old  file, 

[91] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

with  much  kindness  and  humour,  and  a  capital  spinner  of 
a  yarn  when  he  had  broken  the  neck  of  his  day's  work,  and 
got  plenty  of  ale  under  his  belt. 

What  struck  Tom's  youthful  imagination  most  was  the 
desperate  and  lawless  character  of  most  of  the  stories.  Was 
the  guard  hoaxing  him?  He  couldn't  help  hoping  that 
they  were  true.  It 's  very  odd  how  almost  all  English  boys 
love  danger ;  you  can  get  ten  to  join  a  game,  or  climb  a 
tree,  or  swim  a  stream,  when  there  's  a  chance  of  breaking 
their  limbs  or  getting  drowned,  for  one  who  '11  stay  on  level 
ground,  or  in  his  depth,  or  play  quoits  or  bowls. 

The  guard  had  just  finished  an  account  of  a  desperate 
fight  which  had  happened  at  one  of  the  fairs  between  the 
drovers  and  the  farmers  with  their  whips,  and  the  boys  with 
cricket  bats  and  wickets,  which  arose  out  of  a  playful  but 
objectionable  practice  of  the  boys  going  round  to  the  public- 
houses  and  taking  the  linch-pins  out  of  the  wheels  of  the 
gigs,  and  was  moralizing  upon  the  way  in  which  the  Doctor, 
'a  terrible  stern  man  he'd  heard  tell,'  had  come  down 
upon  several  of  the  performers,  '  sending  three  on  'em  off 
next  morning,  each  in  a  po-chay  with  a  parish  constable,' 
when  they  turned  a  corner  and  neared  the  milestone,  the 
third  from  Rugby.  By  the  stone  two  boys  stood,  their 
jackets   buttoned   tight,   waiting   for  the  coach. 

'Look  here,  sir,'  says  the  guard,  after  giving  a  sharp 
toot-toot,  '  there  's  two  on  'em,  out  and  out  runners  they  be. 
They  comes  out  about  twice  or  three  times  a  week,  and 
spirts   a   mile   alongside  of   us.' 

And  as  they  came  up,  sure  enough,  away  went  two  boys 
along  the  footpath,  keeping  up  with  the  horses  ;  the  first  a 
light  clean-made  fellow  going  on  springs,  the  other  stout 

[92] 


BLOW-HARD    AND    HIS    YARNS 

and  round-shouldered,  labouring  in  his  pace,  but  going  as 
dogged  as  a  bull-terrier. 

Old  Blow-hard  looked  on  admiringly.  *  See  how  beautiful 
that  there  un  holds  hisself  together,  and  goes  from  his  hips, 
sir,'  said  he ;  '  he 's  a  'mazin'  fine  runner.  Now  many 
coachmen  as  drives  a  first-rate  team  'd  put  it  on,  and  try 
and  pass  'em.  But  Bob,  sir,  bless  you,  he  's  tender-hearted  ; 
he  'd  sooner  pull  in  a  bit  if  he  see'd  'em  a-gettin'  beat.  I 
do  b'lieve  too  as  that  there  un  'd  sooner  break  his  heart 
than  let  us  go  by  him  afore  next   milestone.' 

At  the  second  milestone  the  boys  pulled  up  short,  and 
waved  their  hats  to  the  guard,  who  had  his  watch  out  and 
shouted  '4.56,'  thereby  indicating  that  the  mile  had  been 
done  in  four  seconds  under  the  five  minutes.  They  passed 
several  more  parties  of  boys,  all  of  them  objects  of  the 
deepest  interest  to  Tom,  and  came  in  sight  of  the  town  at 
ten  minutes  before  twelve.  Tom  fetched  a  long  breath,  and 
thought  he  had  never  spent  a  pleasanter  day.  Before  he 
went  to  bed  he  had  quite  settled  that  it  must  be  the  great- 
est day  he  should  ever  spend,  and  did  n't  alter  his  opinion 
for  many  a  long  year  —  if  he  has  yet. 


[93] 


Ctepter  V 

^ughy  and  ^QoiSaff 


Foot  and  eye  opposed 


In  dubious  strife.^ 


Scott 


ND  so  here  's  Rugby,  sir,  at  last,  and 
you  '11  be  in  plenty  of  time  for 
dinner  at  the  School-house,  as  I  tell'd 
you,'  said  the  old  guard,  pulling  his  horn 
out  of  its  case,  and  tootle-tooing  away  ; 
while  the  coachman  shook  up  his  horses, 
and  carried  them  along  the  side  of  the  school  close,  round 
Dead-man's  corner,  past  the  school  gates,  and  down  the 
High  Street  to  the  Spread  t2agle ;  the  wheelers  in  a 
spanking  trot,  and  leaders  cantering,  in  a  style  which 
would  not  have  disgraced  'Cherry  Bob,'  'ramping,  stamp- 
ing, tearing,  swearing  Billy  Harwood,'  or  any  other  of 
the  old  coaching  heroes. 

[94] 


RUGBY 


Tom's  heart  beat  quick  as  he   passed  the  great  school 
field  or  close,  with  its  noble  elms,  in  which  several  games 


y         i,-=Kt 


Z_-vg- -^^-r' Yj/^  F" 


i.  -» 


■ — -J — ■.■» 


y; 


THE  SCHOOL  FROM  THE  CLOSE 


Vi/Ai*- 


at  football  were  going  on,  and  tried  to  take  in  at  once  the 
long  line  of  grey  buildings,  beginning  with  the  chapel,  and 
ending  with   the  School-house,  the  residence  of  the   head 

[95] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

master,  where  the  great  flag  was  lazily  waving  from  the 
highest  round  tower.  And  he  began  already  to  be  proud  of 
being  a  Rugby  boy,  as  he  passed  the  school  gates,  with  the 
oriel  window  above,  and  saw  the  boys  standing  there,  looking 
as  if  the  town  belonged  to  them,  and  nodding  in  a  familiar 
manner  to  the  coachman,  as  if  any  one  of  them  would  be 
quite  equal  to  getting  on  the  box,  and  working  the  team 
down  street  as  well  as  he. 

One  of  the  young  heroes,  however,  ran  out  from  the  rest, 
and  scrambled  up  behind  ;  where,  having  righted  himself, 
and  nodded  to  the  guard,  with  '  How  do,  Jem  ? '  he  turned 
short  round  to  Tom,  and,  after  looking  him  over  for  a 
minute,   began  — 

'  I  say,  you  fellow,  is  your  name  Brown  .-' ' 

'Yes,'  said  Tom,  in  considerable  astonishment;  glad, 
however,  to  have  lighted  on  some  one  already  who  seemed 
to  know  him. 

'  Ah,  I  thought  so  :  you  know  my  old  aunt,  Miss  East, 
she  lives  somewhere  down  your  way  in  Berkshire.  She 
wrote  to  me  that  you  were  coming  to-day,  and  asked  me 
to  give  you  a  lift.' 

Tom  was  somewhat  inclined  to  resent  the  patronizing  air 
of  his  new  friend,  a  boy  of  just  about  his  own  height  and 
age,  but  gifted  with  the  most  transcendent  coolness  and 
assurance,  which  Tom  felt  to  be  aggravating  and  hard  to 
bear,  but  could  n't  for  the  life  of  him  help  admiring  and 
envying  —  especially  when  young  my  lord  begins  hectoring 
two  or  three  long,  loafing  fellows,  half  porter,  half  stableman, 
with  a  strong  touch  of  the  blackguard ;  and  in  the  end 
arranges  with  one  of  them,  nicknamed  Cooey,  to  carry 
Tom's  luggage  up  to  the  School-house  for  sixpence. 

[96] 


^^^--^^^5; 


^^Jx^ 


'23Y?U)V^'»^hr^^v7 


'AND   AWAY   SWAGGERS   THE    YOUNG    POTENTATE' 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

'  And  hcark  'ee,  Cooey,  it  must  be  up  in  ten  minutes,  or 
no  more  jobs  from  me.  Come  along,  Brown.'  And  away 
swaggers  the  young  potentate,  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets, 
and  Tom  at  his  side, 

'All  right,  sir,'  says  Cooey,  touching  his  hat,  with  a  leer 
and  a  wink  at  his  companions. 

'Hullo  tho','  says  East,  pulling  up,  and  taking  another 
look  at  Tom,  '  this '11  never  do  —  haven't  you  got  a  hat? 
—  we  never  wear  caps  here.  Only  the  louts  wear  caps. 
Bless  you,  if  you  were  to  go  into  the  quadrangle  with 
that  thing  on,  I — don't  know  what 'd  happen.'  The  very 
idea  was  quite  beyond  young  Master  East,  and  he  looked 
unutterable  things. 

Tom  thought  his  cap  a  very  knowing  affair,  but  confessed 
that  he  had  a  hat  in  his  hat-box  ;  which  was  accordingly 
at  once  extracted  from  the  hind  boot,  and  Tom  equipped 
in  his  go-to-meeting  roof,  as  his  new  friend  called  it.  But 
this  did  n't  quite  suit  his  fastidious  taste  in  another  minute, 
being  too  shiny  ;  so,  as  they  walk  up  the  town,  they  dive 
into  Nixon's  the  hatter's,  and  Tom  is  arrayed,  to  his  utter 
astonishment,  and  without  paying  for  it,  in  a  regulation 
cat-skin  at  seven-and-sixpence  ;  Xixon  undertaking  to  send 
the  best  hat  up  to  the  matron's  room,  School-house,  in 
half  an  hour. 

'  You  can  send  in  a  note  for  a  tile  on  Monday,  and  make 
it  all  right,  you  know,'  said  Mentor;  'we're  allowed  two 
seven-and-sixers  a  half,  besides  what  we  bring  from  home.' 

Tom  by  this  time  began  to  be  conscious  of  his  new 
social  position  and  dignities,  and  to  luxuriate  in  the  realized 
ambition  of  being  a  public-school  boy  at  last,  with  a  vested 
right  of  spoiling  two  seven-and-sixers  in  half  a  year. 

[98] 


^55^^W>tAsvT. 


■SHE  GAVE   ME   HALF   A   SOV   THIS   HALF,   AND    PERHAPS'LL 

DOUBLE   IT  NEXT' 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

'You  see,'  said  his  friend,  as  they  strolled  up  towards 
the  school  gates,  in  explanation  of  his  conduct  — '  a  great 
deal  depends  on  how  a  fellow  cuts  up  at  first.  If  he  's  got 
nothing  odd  about  him,  and  answers  straightforward,  and 
holds  his  head  up,  he  gets  on.  Now  you  '11  do  very  well 
as  to  rig,  all  but  that  cap.  You  see  I'm  doing  the  hand- 
some thing  by  you,  because  my  father  knows  yours  ;  besides, 
I  want  to  please  the  old  lady.  She  gave  me  half  a  sov 
this  half,  and  perhaps  '11  double  it  next,  if  I  keep  in  her 
good  books.'  ■ 

There 's  nothing  for  candour  like  a  lower-school  boy, 
and  East  was  a  genuine  specimen  —  frank,  hearty,  and 
good-natured,  well  satisfied  with  himself  and  his  position, 
and  chock-full  of  life  and  spirits,  and  all  the  P.ugby 
prejudices  and  traditions  which  he  had  been  able  to  get 
together  in  the  long  course  of  one  half-year,  during  which 
he  had  been  at  the  School-house. 

And  Tom,  notwithstanding  his  bumptiousness,  felt  friends 
with  him  at  once,  and  began  sucking  in  all  his  ways  and 
prejudices  as  fast  as  he  could  understand  them. 

East  was  great  in  the  character  of  cicerone  ;  he  carried 
Tom  through  the  great  gates,  where  were  only  two  or 
three  boys.  These  satisfied  themselves  with  the  stock 
questions  —  '  You  fellow,  what 's  your  name  ?  Where  do 
you  come  from  ?  How  old  are  you  ?  Where  do  you  board  ? 
and.  What  form  are  you  in  ?  ' —  and  so  they  passed  on 
through  the  quadrangle  and  a  small  courtyard,  upon  which 
looked  down  a  lot  of  little  windows  (belonging,  as  his  guide 
informed  him,  to  some  of  the  School-house  studies),  into 
the  matron's  room,  where  East  introduced  Tom  to  that 
dignitary ;    made  him  give  up  the   key  of  his  trunk,   that 

[loo] 


I 


SCHOOL-HOUSE   HALL 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

the  matron  might  unpack  his  Hnen,  and  told  the  story  of 
the  hat  and  of  his  own  presence  of  mind  :  upon  the  relation 
whereof  the  matron  laughingly  scolded  him,  for  the  coolest 
new  boy  in  the  house  ;  and  East,  indignant  at  the  accusa- 
tion of  newness,  marched  Tom  off  into  the  quadrangle, 
and  began  showing  him  the  schools,  and  examining  him 
as  to  his  literary  attainments  ;  the  result  of  which  was  a 
prophecy  that  they  would  be  in  the  same  form,  and  could 
do  their  lessons  together. 

'  And  now  come  in  and  see  my  study ;  we  shall  have 
just  time  before  dinner ;  and  afterwards,  before  calling- 
over,  we  '11  do  the  close.' 

Tom  followed  his  guide  through  the  School-house  hall, 
which  opens  into  the  quadrangle.  It  is  a  great  room  thirty 
feet  long  and  eighteen  high,  or  thereabouts,  with  two  great 
tables  running  the  whole  length,  and  two  large  fire-places 
at  the  side,  with  blazing  fires  in  them,  at  one  of  which 
some  dozen  boys  were  standing  and  lounging,  some  of 
whom  shouted  to  East  to  stop  ;  but  he  shot  through  with 
his  convoy,  and  landed  him  in  the  long,  dark  passages, 
with  a  large  fire  at  the  end  of  each,  upon  which  the  studies 
opened.  Into  one  of  these,  in  the  bottom  passage.  East 
bolted  with  our  hero,  slamming  and  bolting  the  door  behind 
them,  in  case  of  pursuit  from  the  hall,  and  Tom  w^as  for 
the  first  time  in  a  Rugby  boy's  citadel. 

He  had  n't  been  prepared  for  separate  studies,  and 
w-as  not  a  little  astonished  and  delighted  with  the  palace 
in  question. 

It  wasn't  very  large,  certainly,  being  about  six  feet  long 
by  four  broad.  It  could  n't  be  called  light,  as  there  were 
bars  and  a  grating  to  the  window ;  which  little  precautions 

[102] 


EAST'S    STUDY 


were  necessary  in  the  studies  on  the  ground-floor  looking 
out  into  the  close,  to  prevent  the  exit  of  small  boys  after 
locking-up,  and  the  entrance  of  contraband  articles.  But 
it  was  uncommonly  comfortable  to  look  at,  Tom  thought. 
The  space  under  the 
window  at  the  further 
end  was  occupied  by 
a  square  table  covered 
with  a  reasonably  clean 
and  whole  red  and  blue 
check  tablecloth ;  a  hard- 
seated  sofa  covered  with 
red  stuff  occupied  one 
side,  running  up  to  the 
end,  and  making  a  seat 
for  one,  or  by  sitting 
close,  for  two,  at  the 
table;  and  a  good  stout 
wooden  chair  afforded 
a  seat  to  another  boy, 
so  that  three  could 
sit  and  work  together. 
The  walls  were  wain- 
scoted half-way  up,  the 
wainscot  being  covered 
with  green  baize,  the 
remainder  with  a  bright-patterned  paper,  on  which  hung  three 
or  four  prints,  of  dogs'  heads  ;  Grimaldi  winning  the  Ayles- 
bury steeplechase ;  Amy  Robsart,  the  reigning  Waverley 
beauty  of  the  day ;  and  Tom  Crib  in  a  posture  of  defence, 
which  did  no  credit  to  the  science  of  that   hero,   if  truly 

[i°3] 


ONE   OF   THE    STUDIES   AT   THE 
PRESENT    DAY 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

represented.  Over  the  door  were  a  row  of  hat-pegs,  and  on 
each  side  bookcases  with  cupboards  at  the  bottom  ;  shelves 
and  cupboards  being  filled  indiscriminately  with  school- 
books,  a  cup  or  two,  a  mousetrap,  and  brass  candlesticks, 
leather  straps,  a  fustian  bag,  and  some  curious-looking 
articles,  which  puzzled  Tom  not  a  little,  until  his  friend 
explained  that  they  were  climbing-irons,  and  showed  their 
use.  A  cricket  bat  and  small  fishing-rod  stood  up  in 
one  corner. 

This  was  the  residence  of  East  and  another  boy  in  the 
same  form,  and  had  more  interest  for  Tom  than  Windsor 
Castle,  or  any  other  residence  in  the  British  Isles.  For 
was  he  not  about  to  become  the  joint  owner  of  a  similar 
home,  the  first  place  which  he  could  call  his  own  ?  One's 
own  —  what  a  charm  there  is  in  the  words !  How  long 
it  takes  boy  and  man  to  find  out  their  worth  !  how  fast 
most  of  us  hold  on  to  them  !  faster  and  more  jealously, 
the  nearer  we  are  to  that  general  home,  into  which  we 
can  take  nothing,  but  must  go  naked  as  we  came  into 
the  world.  When  shall  we  learn  that  he  who  multiplieth 
possessions  multiplieth  troubles,  and  that  the  one  single 
use  of  things  which  we  call  our  own  is  that  they  may  be 
his  who  hath  need  of  them  ? 

'  And  shall  I  have  a  study  like  this  too  ? '  said  Tom. 

*  Yes,  of  course,  you  '11  be  chummed  with  some  fellow 
on  Monday,  and  you  can  sit  here  till  then.' 

*  What  nice  places  ! ' 

*  They  're  well  enough, '  answered  East  patronizingly,  '  only 
uncommon  cold  at  nights  sometimes.  Gower  —  that 's  my 
chum  —  and  I  make  a  fire  with  paper  on  the  floor  after 
supper  generally,  only  that  makes  it  so  smoky.' 

[104] 


TOM'S    FIRST    RUGBY    DINNER 

'But  there  's  a  big  fire  out  in  the  passage,'  said  Tom. 

*  Precious  Httle  good  we  get  out  of  that  tho','  said  East ; 
'Jones  the  praepostor  has  the  study  at  the  fire  end,  and 
he  has  rigged  up  an  iron  rod  and  green  baize  curtain 
across  the  passage,  which  he  draws  at  night,  and  sits  there 
with  his  door  open,  so  he  gets  all  the  fire,  and  hears  if 
we  come  out  of  our  studies  after  eight,  or  make  a  noise. 
However,  he  's  taken  to  sitting  in  the  fifth-form  room  lately, 
so  we  do  get  a  bit  of  fire  now  sometimes  ;  only  to  keep 
a  sharp  look-out  that  he  don't  catch  you  behind  his  curtain 
when  he  comes  down  —  that's  all.' 

A  quarter  past  one  now  struck,  and  the  bell  began 
tolling  for  dinner,  so  they  went  into  the  hall  and  took  their 
places,  Tom  at  the  very  bottom  of  the  second  table,  next 
to  the  praepostor  (who  sat  at  the  end  to  keep  order  there), 
and  East  a  few  paces  higher.  And  now  Tom  for  the  first 
time  saw  his  future  schoolfellows  in  a  body.  In  they  came, 
some  hot  and  ruddy  from  football  or  long  walks,  some  pale 
and  chilly  from  hard  reading  in  their  studies,  some  from 
loitering  over  the  fire  at  the  pastrycook's,  dainty  mortals, 
bringing  with  them  pickles  and  sauce-bottles  to  help  them 
with  their  dinners.  And  a  great  big-bearded  man,  whom 
Tom  took  for  a  master,  began  calling  over  the  names, 
while  the  great  joints  were  being  rapidly  carved  on  a  third 
table  in  the  corner  by  the  old  verger  and  the  housekeeper. 
Tom's  turn  came  last,  and  meanwhile  he  was  all  eyes, 
looking  first  with  awe  at  the  great  man  who  sat  close  to 
him,  and  was  helped  first,  and  who  read  a  hard-looking 
book  all  the  time  he  was  eating  ;  and  when  he  got  up  and 
walked  off  to  the  fire,  at  the  small  boys  round  him,  some 
of  whom  were  reading,  and  the  rest  talking  in  whispers  to 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

one  another,  or  stealing  one  another's  bread,  or  shooting 
pellets,  or  digging  their  forks  through  the  tablecloth.  How- 
ever,  notwithstanding  his   curiosity,    he   managed   to   make 


'THE   LONG,    DARK   PASSAGES,  .  .  .  UPON   WHICH   THE 
STUDIES   OPENED' 

a  capital   dinner  by  the  time   the   big   man  called   '  Stand 
up  !  '  and  said  grace. 

As  soon  as  dinner  was  over,  and  Tom  had  been  ques- 
tioned by  such  of  his  neighbours  as  were  curious  as  to  his 
birth,  parentage,  education,  and  other  like  matters.  East, 
who  evidently  enjoyed  his  new  dignity  of  patron  and 
Mentor,  proposed  having  a  look  at  the  close,  which  Tom, 

[io6] 


EAST    ACTS   AS    MENTOR 

athirst  for  knowledge,  gladly  assented  to,  and  they  went 
out  through  the  quadrangle,  and  past  the  big  fives  court, 
into  the  great  playground. 


.•Ts-      ^ 


■■*'■■'  '«*, 


THE    I  S  L  A  N  D    I\I  O  A  T 


'That's  the  chapel  you  see,'  said  East,  'and  there,  just 
behind  it,  is  the  place  for  fights  ;  you  see  it 's  most  out 
of  the  way  of  the  masters,  who  all  live  on  the  other  side 
and  don't  come  by  here  after  first  lesson  or  callings-over. 

[107] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

That 's  when  the  fights  come  off.  And  all  this  part  where 
we  are  is  the  little-side  ground,  right  up  to  the  trees,  and 
on  the  other  side  of  the  trees  is  the  big-side  ground,  where 
the  great  matches  are  played.  And  there  's  the  island  in 
the  furthest  corner ;  you  '11  know  that  well  enough  next 
half,  when  there 's  island  fagging.  I  say,  it 's  horrid  cold, 
let's  have  a  run  across,'  and  away  went  East,  Tom  close 
behind  him.  East  was  evidently  putting  his  best  foot  fore- 
most, and  Tom,  who  was  mighty  proud  of  his  running, 
and  not  a  little  anxious  to  show  his  friend  that  although 
a  new  boy  he  was  no  milksop,  laid  himself  down  to  work 
in  his  very  best  style.  Right  across  the  close  they  went, 
each  doing  all  he  knew,  and  there  wasn't  a  yard  between 
them  when  they  pulled  up  at  the  island  moat. 

'  I  say,'  said  East,  as  soon  as  he  got  his  wind,  looking 
with  much  increased  respect  at  Tom,  '  you  ain't  a  bad  scud, 
not  by  no  means.    Well,  I'm  as  warm  as  a  toast  now.' 

'  But  why  do  you  wear  white  trousers  in  November  ? ' 
said  Tom.  He  had  been  struck  by  this  peculiarity  in  the 
costume  of  almost  all  the  School-house  boys. 

'Why,  bless  us,  don't  you  know.!"  —  No,  I  forgot.  Why, 
to-day's  the  School-house  match.  Our  house  plays  the  whole 
of  the  School  at  football.  And  we  all  wear  white  trousers,  to 
show  'em  we  don't  care  for  hacks.  You  're  in  luck  to  come 
to-day.  You  just  will  see  a  match  ;  and  Brooke  's  going  to 
let  me  play  in  quarters.  That 's  more  than  he  '11  do  for  any 
other  lower-school  boy,  except  James,  and  he  's  fourteen.' 

'  Who  's  Brooke  } ' 

'Why,  that  big  fellow  who  called  over  at  dinner,  to  be 
sure.  He  's  cock  of  the  School,  and  head  of  the  School- 
house  side,  and  the  best  kick  and  charger  in  Rugby.' 

[io8] 


THE    LAWS    OF    FOOTBALL 

'  Oh,  but  do  show  me  where  they  play.  And  tell  me 
about  it.  I  love  football  so,  and  have  played  all  my  life. 
Won't  Brooke  let  me  play  ? ' 

'Not  he,'  said  East,  with  some  indignation;  'why,  you 
don't  know  the  rules  —  you'll  be  a  month  learning  them. 
And  then  it 's  no  joke  playing-up  in  a  match,  I  can  tell  you. 
Quite  another  thing  from  your  private  school  games.  Why, 
there  's  been  two  collar-bones  broken  this  half,  and  a  dozen 
fellows  lamed.    And  last  year  a  fellow  had  his  leg  broken.' 

Tom  listened  with  the  profoundest  respect  to  this  chapter 
of  accidents,  and  followed  East  across  the  level  ground  till 
they  came  to  a  sort  of  gigantic  gallows  of  two  poles  eight- 
een feet  high,  fixed  upright  in  the  ground  some  fourteen 
feet  apart,  with  a  cross-bar  running  from  one  to  the  other 
at  the  height  of  ten  feet  or  thereabouts. 

'This  is  one  of  the  goals,'  said  East,  'and  you  see  the 
other,  across  there,  right  opposite,  under  the  Doctor's  wall. 
Well,  the  match  is  for  the  best  of  three  goals  ;  whichever 
side  kicks  two  goals  wins  :  and  it  won't  do,  you  see,  just 
to  kick  the  ball  through  these  posts,  it  must  go  over  the 
cross-bar ;  any  height  '11  do,  so  long  as  it 's  between  the 
posts.  You  '11  have  to  stay  in  goal  to  touch  the  ball  when 
it  rolls  behind  the  posts,  because  if  the  other  side  touch  it 
they  have  a  try  at  goal.  Then  we  fellows  in  quarters,  we 
play  just  about  in  front  of  goal  here,  and  have  to  turn  the 
ball  and  kick  it  back  before  the  big  fellows  on  the  other 
side  can  follow  it  up.  And  in  front  of  us  all  the  big  fel- 
lows play,  and  that 's  where  the  scrummages  are   mostly.' 

Tom's  respect  increased  as  he  struggled  to  make  out  his 
friend's  technicalities,  and  the  other  set  to  work  to  explain 
the    mysteries    of    'off    your    side,'    'drop-kicks,'    'punts,' 

[109] 


TOM    i;r()\\x*s   school   days 

'places,'    and    the    other    intricacies    of    the    <;reat    science 
of  football. 

'  Hut  how  do  you  keep  the  ball  between  the  fjoals  ? '  said  he ; 
•I  can't  see  whv  it  nii«;ht  n't  ^o  rii,dit  down  to  the  chapel.' 


V 


•^•,    ...I.*. 


TH  E   THREE  TREES 


'Why,  that's  out  of  play,'  answered  P2ast.  '  Vou  see  this 
gravel  walk  running  down  all  along  this  side  of  the  playing- 
ground,  and  the  line  of  elms  opposite  on  the  other .''  Well, 
they  're  the  bounds.  As  soon  as  the  ball  gets  past  them, 
it 's   in   touch,    and   out   of   play.    And   then   whoever   first 

[no] 


THE    PUNT-ABOUT 

touches  it,  has  to  knock  it  straight  out  amongst  the  players- 
up,  who  make  two  hnes  with  a  space  between  them,  every 
fellow  going  on  his  own  side.  Ain't  there  just  fine  scrum- 
mages then  !  and  the  three  trees  you  see  there  which  come 
out  into  the  play,  that 's  a  tremendous  place  when  the 
ball  hangs  there,  for  you  get  thrown  against  the  trees,  and 
that's  worse  than  any  hack.' 

Tom  wondered  within  himself,  as  they  strolled  back  again 
towards  the  fives  court,  whether  the  matches  were  really 
such  break-neck  affairs  as  East  represented,  and  whether,  if 
they  were,  he  should  ever  get  to  like  them  and  play-up  w-ell. 

He  had  n't  long  to  \vonder,  however,  for  next  minute 
East  cried  out,  'Hurra!  here's  the  punt-about  —  come 
along  and  try  your  hand  at  a  kick.'  The  punt-about  is  the 
practice-ball,  which  is  just  brought  out  and  kicked  about 
anyhow  from  one  boy  to  another  before  callings-over  and 
dinner,  and  at  other  odd  times.  They  joined  the  boys  who 
had  brought  it  out,  all  small  School-house  fellows,  friends  of 
East ;  and  Tom  had.  the  pleasure  of  trying  his  skill,  and 
performed  very  creditably,  after  first  driving  his  foot  three 
inches  into  the  ground,  and  then  nearly  kicking  his  leg 
into  the  air,  in  vigorous  efforts  to  accomplish  a  drop-kick 
after  the  manner  of  East. 

Presently  more  boys  and  bigger  came  out,  and  boys  from 
other  houses  on  their  way  to  calling-over,  and  more  balls 
were  sent  for.  The  crowed  thickened  as  three  o'clock 
approached  ;  and  when  the  hour  struck,  one  hundred  and 
fifty  boys  were  hard  at  work.  Then  the  balls  were  held, 
the  master  of  the  week  came  down  in  cap  and  gown  to 
calling-over,  and  the  whole  school  of  three  hundred  boys 
swept  into  the  big  school  to  answer  to  their  names. 

[Ill] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

'  I  may  come  in,  may  n't  I  ? '  said  Tom,  catching  East 
by  the  arm  and  longing  to  feel  one  of  them. 

'  Yes,  come  along,  nobody  '11  say  anything.  You  won't 
be  so  eager  to  get  into  calling-over  after  a  month,'  replied 
his  friend  ;  and  they  marched  into  the  big  school  together. 


THE   BIG   SCHOOL 

and  up  to  the  further  end,  where  that  illustrious  form,  the 
lower  fourth,  which  had  the  honour  of  East's  patronage 
for  the  time  being,  stood. 

The  master  mounted  into  the  high  desk  by  the  door, 
and  one  of  the  praepostors  of  the  week  stood  by  him  on 
the  steps,  the  other  three  marching  up  and  down  the  mid- 
dle  of  the   school   with   their  canes,   calling  out  '  Silence, 

[112] 


CALLING-OVER 

silence  !  '  The  sixth  form  stood  close  by  the"  door  on  the 
left,  some  thirty  in  number,  mostly  great  big  grown  men, 
as  Tom  thought,  surveying  them  from  a  distance  with  awe. 
The  fifth  form  behind  them,  twice  their  number  and  not 
quite  so  big.  These  on  the  left ;  and  on  the  right  the  lower 
fifth,  shell,  and  all  the  junior  forms  in  order ;  while  up  the 
middle  marched  the  three  praepostors. 

Then  the  praepostor  who  stands  by  the  master  calls  out 
the  names,  beginning  with  the  sixth  form,  and  as  he  calls, 
each  boy  answers  '  here '  to  his  name,  and  walks  out. 
Some  of  the  sixth  stop  at  the  door  to  turn  the  whole 
string  of  boys  into  the  close  ;  it  is  a  great  match  day,  and 
every  boy  in  the  school,  will  he,  nill  he,  must  be  there. 
The  rest  of  the  sixth  go  forwards  into  the  close,  to  see 
that  no  one  escapes  by  any  of  the  side  gates. 

To-day,  however,  being  the  School-house  match,  none  of 
the  School-house  praepostors  stay  by  the  door  to  watch  for 
truants  of  their  side  ;  there  is  carte  blanche  to  the  School- 
house  fags  to  go  Xvhere  they  like :  '  They  trust  to  our 
honour,'  as  East  proudly  informs  Tom;  'they  know  very 
well  that  no  School-house  boy  would  cut  the  match.  If  he 
did,  we  'd  very  soon  cut  him,  I  can  tell  you.' 

The  master  of  the  week  being  short-sighted,  and  the 
praepostors  of  the  week  small  and  not  well  up  to  their 
work,  the  lower-school  boys  employ  the  ten  minutes  which 
elapse  before  their  names  are  called  in  pelting  one  another 
vigorously  with  acorns,  which  fly  about  in  all  directions. 
The  small  praepostors  dash  in  every  now  and  then,  and 
generally  chastise  some  quiet,  timid  boy  who  is  equally 
afraid  of  acorns  and  canes,  while  the  principal  performers 
get  dexterously  out  of  the  way ;  and  so  calling-over  rolls 


TU.M    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

on  somehow,  much  Hke  the  big  world,  punishments  lighting 
on  wrong  shoulders,  and  matters  going  generally  in  a  queer, 


a 


SCHOOL-HOUSE    ENTRANCE   AT  THE   PRESENT   DAY 

cross-grained  way,  but  the  end  coming  somehow,  which  is 
after  all  the  great  point.  And  now  the  master  of  the  week 
has  finished,  and  locked  up  the  big  school ;  and  the  prae- 
postors of  the  week  come  out,  sweeping  the  last  remnant 

["4] 


MARSHALLING    FOR    FOOTBALL 

of  the  School  fags  —who  had  been  loafing  about  the  corners 
by  the  fives  court,  in  hopes  of  a  chance  of  bolting  — •  before 
them  into  the  close. 

'  Hold  the  punt-about !  '  *  To  the  goals  ! '  are  the  cries, 
and  all  stray  balls  are  impounded  by  the  authorities  ;  and 
the  whole  mass  of  boys  moves  up  towards  the  two  goals, 
dividing  as  they  go  into  three  bodies.  That  little  band  on 
the  left,  consisting  of  from  fifteen  to  twenty  boys,  Tom 
amongst  them,  who  are  making  for  the  goal  under  the 
School-house  wall,  are  the  School-house  boys  who  are  not 
to  play-up,  and  have  to  stay  in  goal.  The  larger  body  mov- 
ing to  the  island  goal  are  the  School  boys  in  a  like  predica- 
ment. The  great  mass  in  the  middle  are  the  players-up, 
both  sides  mingled  together;  they  are  hanging  their  jackets, 
and  all  who  mean  real  work  their  hats,  waistcoats,  neck- 
handkerchiefs,  and  braces,  on  the  railings  round  the  small 
trees  ;  and  there  they  go  by  twos  and  threes  up  to  their 
respective  grounds.  There  is  none  of  the  colour  and  tasti- 
ness  of  get-up,  you  will  perceive,  which  lends  such  a  life  to 
the  present  game  at  Rugby,  making  the  dullest  and  worst- 
fought  match  a  pretty  sight.  Now  each  house  has  its  own 
uniform  of  cap  and  jersey,  of  some  lively  colour :  but  at  the 
time  we  are  speaking  of,  plush  caps  have  not  yet  come  in, 
or  uniforms  of  any  sort,  except  the  School-house  white 
trousers,  which  are  abominably  cold  to-day  :  let  us  get  to 
work,  bareheaded  and  girded  with  our  plain  leather  straps 
—  but  we  mean  business,  gentlemen. 

And  now  that  the  two  sides  have  fairly  sundered,  and 
each  occupies  its  own  ground,  and  we  get  a  good  look  at 
them,  what  absurdity  is  this  ?  You  don't  mean  to  say  that 
those  fifty  or  sixty  boys  in  white  trousers,  many  of  them 

["5] 


TOM    ]{R()\VN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

quite  small,  are  going  to  play  that  huge  mass  opposite  ? 
Indeed  I  do,  gentlemen  ;  they  're  going  to  try  at  any  rate, 
and  won't  make  such  a  bad  fight  of  it  either,  mark  my  word  ; 
for  has  n't  old  lirooke  won  the  toss  with  his  lucky  halfpenny, 
and  got  choice  of  goals  and  kick-off  ?  The  new  ball  you 
may  see  lie  there  cjuite  by  itself,  in  the  middle,  pointing 
towards  the  school  or  island  goal ;  in  another  minute  it  will 
be  well  on  its  way  there.  Use  that  minute  in  remarking 
how  the  School-house  side  is  drilled.  Vou  will  see,  in  the 
first  place,  that  the  sixth-form  boy  who  has  the  charge  of 
goal  has  spread  his  force  (the  goal-keepers)  so  as  to  occupy 
the  whole  space  behind  the  goal-posts,  at  distances  of  about 
five  yards  apart ;  a  safe  and  well-kept  goal  is  the  foundation 
of  all  good  play.  Old  Brooke  is  talking  to  the  captain  of 
quarters  ;  and  now  he  moves  away  ;  see  how  that  youngster 
spreads  his  men  (the  light  brigade)  carefully  over  the 
ground,  half-way  between  their  own  goal  and  the  body  of 
their  own  players-up  (the  heaxy  brigade).  These  again  play 
in  several  bodies  ;  there  is  young  Brooke  and  the  bulldogs 
—  mark  them  well  —  they  are  the  'fighting  brigade,'  the 
'die-hards,'  larking  about  at  leap-frog  to  keep  themselves 
warm,  and  playing  tricks  on  one  another.  And  on  each  side 
of  old  Brooke,  who  is  now  standing  in  the  middle  of  the 
ground  and  just  going  to  kick-off,  you  see  a  separate  wing  of 
players-up,  each  with  a  boy  of  acknowledged  prowess  to  look 
to  —  here  Warner,  and  there  Hedge  ;  but  over  all  is  old 
Brooke,  absolute  as  he  of  Russia,  but  wisely  and  bravely 
ruling  over  willing  and  worshipping  subjects,  a  true  football 
king.  His  face  is  earnest  and  careful  as  he  glances  a  last 
time  over  his  array,  but  full  of  pluck  and  hope,  the  sort  of 
look  I  hope  to  see  in  my  general  when  I  go  out  to  fight. 

[ii6] 


THE    KICK-OFF 

The  School  side  is  not  organized  in  the  same  way.  The 
goal-keepers  are  all  in  lumps,  anyhow  and  nohow  ;  you  can't 
distinguish  between  the  players-up  and  the  boys  in  quar- 
ters, and  there  is  divided  leadership  ;  but  with  such  odds  in 
strength  and  weight  it  must  take  more  than  that  to  hinder 
them  from  winning  ;  and  so  their  leaders  seem  to  think, 
for  they  let  the  players-up  manage  themselves. 

But  now  look,  there  is  a  slight  move  forward  of  the 
School-house  wings  ;  a  shout  of  '  Are  you  ready  ? '  and  loud 
affirmative  reply.  Old  Brooke  takes  half  a  dozen  quick 
steps,  and  away  goes  the  ball  spinning  towards  the  School 
goal ;  seventy  yards  before  it  touches  ground,  and  at  no 
point  above  twelve  or  fifteen  feet  high,  a  model  kick-off ; 
and  the  School-house  cheer  and  rush  on  ;  the  ball  is  re- 
turned, and  they  meet  it  and  drive  it  back  amongst  the 
masses  of  the  School  already  in  motion.  Then  the  two 
sides  close,  and  you  can  see  nothing  for  minutes  but  a 
swaying  crowd  of  boys,  at  one  point  violently  agitated. 
That  is  where  the  ball  is,  and  there  are  the  keen  players  to 
be  met,  and  the  glory  and  the  hard  knocks  to  be  got :  you 
hear  the  dull  thud,  thud  of  the  ball,  and  the  shouts  of  'Off 
your  side,'  'Down  with  him,'  'Put  him  over,'  'Bravo.' 
This  is  what  we  call  a  scrummage,  gentlemen,  and  the 
first  scrummage  in  a  School-house  match  was  no  joke  in 
the  consulship  of  Plancus. 

But  see  !  it  has  broken  ;  the  ball  is  driven  out  on  the 
School-house  side,  and  a  rush  of  the  School  carries  it  past 
the  School-house  players-up.  '  Look  out  in  quarters,'  Brooke's 
and  twenty  other  voices  ring  out ;  no  need  to  call  though, 
the  School-house  captain  of  quarters  has  caught  it  on  the 
bound,  dodges  the  foremost  School  boys,  who  are  heading 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

the  rush,  and  sends  it  back  with  a  good  drop-kick  well  into 
the  enemy's  countr)'.  And  then  follows  rush  upon  rush,  and 
scrummage  upon  scrummage,  the  ball  now  driven  through 
into  the  School-house  quarters,  and  now  into  the  School 
goal  ;  for  the  School-house  have  not  lost  the  advantage 
which  the  kick-off  and  a  slight  wind  gave  them  at  the  out- 
set, and  are  slightly  '  penning '  their  adversaries.  You  say, 
you  don't  see  much  in  it  all ;  nothing  but  a  struggling  mass 
of  boys,  and  a  leather  ball,  which  seems  to  excite  them  all 
to  great  fury,  as  a  red  rag  docs  a  bull.  My  dear  sir,  a  battle 
would  look  much  the  same  to  you,  except  that  the  boys 
would  be  men,  and  the  balls  iron  ;  but  a  battle  would  be 
worth  your  looking  at  for  all  that,  and  so  is  a  football  match. 
You  can't  be  expected  to  appreciate  the  delicate  strokes  of 
play,  the  turns  by  which  a  game  is  lost  and  won,  —  it  takes 
an  old  player  to  do  that  —  but  the  broad  philosophy  of 
football  you  can  understand  if  you  will.  Come  along  with 
me  a  little  nearer,  and  let  us  consider  it  together. 

The  ball  has  just  fallen  again  where  the  two  sides  are 
thickest,  and  they  close  rapidly  around  it  in  a  scrummage  ; 
it  must  be  driven  through  now  by  force  or  skill,  till  it  flies 
out  on  one  side  or  the  other.  Look  how  differently  the  boys 
face  it !  Here  come  two  of  the  bulldogs,  bursting  through 
the  outsiders  ;  in  they  go,  straight  to  the  heart  of  the  scrum- 
mage, bent  on  driving  that  ball  out  on  the  opposite  side. 
That  is  what  they  mean  to  do.  My  sons,  my  sons  !  you  are 
too  hot ;  you  have  gone  past  the  ball,  and  must  struggle 
now  right  through  the  scrummage,  and  get  round  and  back 
again  to  your  own  side,  before  you  can  be  of  any  further 
use.  Here  comes  young  Brooke  ;  he  goes  in  as  straight 
as  you,  but  keeps  his  head,  and  backs  and  bends,  holding 

[1x8] 


A    SCRUMMAGE 

himself  still  behind  the  ball,  and  driving  it  furiously  when 
he  gets  the  chance.  Take  a  leaf  out  of  his  book,  you  young 
chargers.  Here  come  Speedicut,  and  Flashman,  the  School- 
house  bully,  with  shouts  and  great  action.  Won't  you  two 
come  up  to  young  Brooke,  after  locking-up,  by  the  School- 
house  fire,  with  '  Old  fellow,  was  n't  that  just  a  splendid 
scrummage  by  the  three  trees  ! '  But  he  knows  you,  and 
so  do  we.  You  don't  really  want  to  drive  that  ball  through 
that  scrummage,  chancing  all  hurt  for  the  glory  of  the 
School-house  —  but  to  make  us  think  that 's  what  you  want 
—  a  vastly  different  thing ;  and  fellows  of  your  kidney  will 
never  go  through  more  than  the  skirts  of  a  scrummage, 
where  it 's  all  push  and  no  kicking.  We  respect  boys  who 
keep  out  of  it,  and  don't  sham  going  in  ;  but  you  —  we 
had  rather  not  say  what  we  think  of  you. 

Then  the  boys  who  are  bending  and  watching  on  the  out- 
side, mark  them — they  are  most  useful  players,  the  dodgers  ; 
who  seize  on  the  ball  the  moment  it  rolls  out  from  amongst 
the  chargers,  and  away  with  it  across  to  the  opposite  goal ; 
they  seldom  go  into  the  scrummage,  but  must  have  m.ore 
coolness  than  the  chargers  :  as  endless  as  are  boys'  charac- 
ters, so  are  their  ways  of  facing  or  not  facing  a  scrummage 
at  football. 

Three-quarters  of  an  hour  are  gone  ;  first  winds  are  fail- 
ing, and  weight  and  numbers  beginning  to  tell.  Yard  by 
yard  the  School-house  have  been  driven  back,  contesting 
every  inch  of  ground.  The  bulldogs  are  the  colour  of 
mother  earth  from  shoulder  to  ankle,  except  young  Brooke, 
who  has  a  marvellous  knack  of  keeping  his  legs.  The 
School-house  are  being  penned  in  their  turn,  and  now 
the  ball  is  behind  their  goal,  under  the  Doctor's  wall.     The 

[119] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

Doctor  and  some  of  his  family  are  there  looking  on,  and 
seem  as  anxious  as  any  boy  for  the  success  of  the  School- 
house.  We  get  a  minute's  breathing  time  before  old  Brooke 
kicks  out,  and  he  gives  the  word  to  play  strongly  for  touch, 
by  the  three  trees.  Away  goes  the  ball,  and  the  bulldogs 
after  it,  and  in  another  minute  there  is  shout  of  '  In  touch,' 
'Our  ball.'  Now's  your  time,  old  Brooke,  while  your  men 
are  still  fresh.  He  stands  with  the  ball  in  his  hand,  while 
the  two  sides  form  in  deep  lines  opposite  one  another  :  he 
must  strike  it  straight  out  between  them.  The  lines  are 
thickest  close  to  him,  but  young  Brooke  and  two  or  three 
of  his  men  are  shifting  up  further,  where  the  opposite  line 
is  weak.  Old  Brooke  strikes  it  out  straight  and  strong,  and 
it  falls  opposite  his  brother.  Hurra !  that  rush  has  taken  it 
right  through  the  School  line,  and  away  past  the  three  trees, 
far  into  their  quarters,  and  young  l^rooke  and  the  bulldogs 
are  close  upon  it.  The  School  leaders  rush  back  shouting 
'  Look  out  in  goal,'  and  strain  every  nerve  to  catch  him, 
but  they  are  after  the  fleetest  foot  in  Rugby.  There  they 
go  straight  for  the  School  goal-posts,  quarters  scattering 
before  them.  One  after  another  the  bulldogs  go  down,  but 
young  Brooke  holds  on.  '  He  is  down.'  No!  a  long  stag- 
ger, but  the  danger  is  past ;  that  was  the  shock  of  Crew, 
the  most  dangerous  of  dodgers.  And  now  he  is  close  to 
the  School  goal,  the  ball  not  three  yards  before  him.  There 
is  a  hurried  rush  of  the  School  fags  to  the  spot,  but  no 
one  throws  himself  on  the  ball,  the  only  chance,  and  young 
Brooke  has  touched  it  right  under  the  School  goal-posts. 

The  School  leaders  come  up  furious,  and  administer  toco 
to  the  wretched  fags  nearest  at  hand  ;  they  may  well  be 
angry,  for  it  is  all  Lombard  Street  to  a  china  orange  that 

[120] 


YOUNG    BROOKE'S    RUSH 

the  School-house  kick  a  goal  with  the  ball  touched  in  such 
a  good  place.  Old  Brooke  of  course  will  kick  it  out,  but 
who  shall  catch  and  place  it  ?  Call  Crab  Jones.  Here  he 
comes,  sauntering  along  with  a  straw  in  his  mouth,  the 
queerest,  coolest  fish  in  Rugby  :  if  he  were  tumbled  into 
the  moon  this  minute,  he  would  just  pick  himself  up  with- 
out taking  his  hands  out  of  his  pockets  or  turning  a  hair. 
But  it  is  a  moment  when  the  boldest  charger's  heart  beats 
quick.  Old  Brooke  stands  with  the  ball  under  his  arm 
motioning  the  School  back  ;  he  will  not  kick-out  till  they 
are  all  in  goal,  behind  the  posts ;  they  are  all  edging  for- 
wards, inch  by  inch,  to  get  nearer  for  the  rush  at  Crab 
Jones,  who  stands  there  in  front  of  old  Brooke  to  catch  the 
ball.  If  they  can  reach  and  destroy  him  before  he  catches, 
the  danger  is  over ;  and  with  one  and  the  same  rush  they 
will  carry  it  right  away  to  the  School-house  goal.  Fond 
hope  !  it  is  kicked  out  and  caught  beautifully.  Crab  strikes 
his  heel  into  the  ground,  to  mark  the  spot  where  the  ball 
was  caught,  beyond  which  the  School  line  may  not  advance ; 
but  there  they  stand,  five  deep,  ready  to  rush  the  moment 
the  ball  touches  the  ground.  Take  plenty  of  room  !  don't 
give  the  rush  a  chance  of  reaching  you  !  place  it  true  and 
steady !  Trust  Crab  Jones  —  he  has  made  a  small  hole 
with  his  heel  for  the  ball  to  lie  on,  by  which  he  is  resting 
on  one  knee,  with  his  eye  on  old  Brooke.  '  Now  ! '  Crab 
places  the  ball  at  the  word,  old  Brooke  kicks,  and  it  rises 
slowly  and  truly  as  the  School  rush  forward. 

Then  a  moment's  pause,  while  both  sides  look  up  at 
the  spinning  ball.  There  it  flies,  straight  between  the  two 
posts,  some  five  feet  above  the  cross-bar,  an  unquestioned 
goal ;  and  a  shout  of  real  genuine  joy  rings  out  from  the 

[I2l] 


TOM  BROWN'S  SCHOOL- DAYS 

School-house  players-up,  and  a  faint  echo  of  it  comes  over 
the  close  from  the  goal-keepers  under  the  Doctor's  wall. 
A  goal  in  the  first  hour  —  such  a  thing  hasn't  been  done 
in  the  School-house  match  this  five  years. 

'  Over !  '  is  the  cr)' :  the  two  sides  change  goals,  and  the 
School-house  goal-keepers  come  threading  their  way  across 
through  the  masses  of  the  School  ;  the  most  openly  trium- 
phant of  them,  amongst  whom  is  Tom,  a  School-house  boy 
of  two  hours'  standing,  getting  their  ears  boxed  in  the 
transit.  Tom  indeed  is  excited  beyond  measure,  and  it  is 
all  the  sixth-form  boy,  kindest  and  safest  of  goal-keepers, 
has  been  able  to  do  to  keep  him  from  rushing  out  when- 
ever the  ball  has  been  near  their  goal.  So  he  holds  him  by 
his  side,  and  instructs  him  in  the  science  of  touching. 

At  this  moment  Griffith,  the  itinerant  vendor  of  oranges 
from  Mill  Morton,  enters  the  close  with  his  heavy  baskets; 
there  is  a  rush  of  small  boys  upon  the  little  pale-faced  man, 
the  two  sides  mingling  together,  subdued  by  the  great  God- 
dess Thirst,  like  the  English  and  French  by  the  streams  in 
the  Pyrenees.  The  leaders  are  past  oranges  and  apples,  but 
some  of  them  visit  their  coats,  and  apply  innocent-looking 
ginger-beer  bottles  to  their  mouths.  It  is  no  ginger-beer 
though,  I  fear,  and  will  do  you  no  good.  One  short  mad 
rush,  and  then  a  stitch  in  the  side,  and  no  more  honest 
play  ;  that  's  what  comes  of  those  bottles. 

But  now  Griffith's  baskets  are  empty,  the  ball  is  placed 
again  midway,  and  the  School  are  going  to  kick  off.  Their 
leaders  have  sent  their  lumber  into  goal,  and  rated  the  rest 
soundly,  and  one  hundred  and  twenty  picked  players-up  are 
there,  bent  on  retrieving  the  game.  They  are  to  keep  the 
ball  in  front  of  the  School-house  goal,  and  then  to  drive  it 

[122] 


THE    LAST    HALF-HOUR 

in  by  sheer  strength  and  weight.  They  mean  heavy  play 
and  no  mistake,  and  so  old  Brooke  sees  ;  and  places  Crab 
Jones  in  quarters  just  before  the  goal,  with  four  or  five 
picked  players,  who  are  to  keep  the  ball  away  to  the  sides, 
where  a  try  at  goal,  if  obtained,  will  be  less  dangerous  than 
in  front.  He  himself,  and  Warner  and  Hedge,  who  have 
saved  themselves  till  now,  will  lead  the  charges, 

'  Are  you  ready  ? '  '  Yes.'  And  away  comes  the  ball, 
kicked  high  in  the  air,  to  give  the  School  time  to  rush  on 
and  catch  it  as  it  falls.  And  here  they  are  amongst  us. 
Meet  them  like  Englishmen,  you  School-house  boys,  and 
charge  them  home.  Now  is  the  time  to  show  what  mettle 
is  in  you  —  and  there  shall  be  a  warm  seat  by  the  hall  fire, 
and  honour,  and  lots  of  bottled  beer  to-night,  for  him  who 
does  his  duty  in  the  next  half-hour.  And  they  are  well 
met.  Again  and  again  the  cloud  of  their  players-up  gathers 
before  our  goal,  and  comes  threatening  on,  and  Warner  or 
Hedge,  with  young  Brooke  and  the  relics  of  the  bulldogs, 
break  through  and .  carry  the  ball  back  ;  and  old  Brooke 
ranges  the  field  like  Job's  war-horse,  the  thickest  scrummage 
parts  asunder  before  his  rush,  like  the  waves  before  a 
clipper's  bows  ;  his  cheery  voice  rings  over  the  field,  and 
his  eye  is  everywhere.  And  if  these  miss  the  ball,  and  it 
rolls  dangerously  in  front  of  our  goal,  Crab  Jones  and  his 
men  have  seized  it  and  sent  it  away  towards  the  sides  with 
the  unerring  drop-kick.  This  is  worth  living  for ;  the  whole 
sum  of  schoolboy  existence  gathered  up  into  one  straining, 
struggling  half-hour,  a  half-hour  worth  a  year  of  common  life. 

The  quarter  to  five  has  struck,  and  the  play  slackens  for 
a  minute  before  goal ;  but  there  is  Crew,  the  artful  dodger, 
driving  the   ball   in   behind   our   goal,   on   the   island   side, 

[  123] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

where  our  quarters  are  weakest.  Is  there  no  one  to  meet 
him  ?  Yes  !  look  at  Httle  East !  the  ball  is  just  at  equal  dis- 
tances between  the  two,  and  they  rush  together,  the  young 
man  of  seventeen  and  the  boy  of  twelve,  and  kick  it  at  the 
same  moment.  Crew  passes  on  without  a  stagger ;  East  is 
hurled  forward  by  the  shock,  and  plunges  on  his  shoulder, 
as  if  he  would  bur)-  himself  in  the  ground  ;  but  the  ball 
rises  straight  into  the  air,  and  falls  behind  Crew's  back, 
while  the  '  bravos  '  of  the  School-house  attest  the  pluckiest 
charge  of  all  that  hard-fought  day.  Warner  picks  East  up 
lame  and  half  stunned,  and  he  hobbles  back  into  goal, 
conscious  of  having  played  the  man. 

And  now  the  last  minutes  are  come,  and  the  School 
gather  for  their  last  rush,  every  boy  of  the  hundred  and 
twenty  who  has  a  run  left  in  him.  Reckless  of  the  defence 
of  their  own  goal,  on  they  come  across  the  level  big-side 
ground,  the  ball  well  down  amongst  them,  straight  for  our 
goal,  like  the  column  of  the  Old  Guard  up  the  slope  at 
Waterloo.  All  former  charges  have  been  child's  play  to 
this.  Warner  and  Hedge  have  met  them,  but  still  on  they 
come.  The  bulldogs  rush  in  for  the  last  time  ;  they  are 
hurled  over  or  carried  back,  striving  hand,  foot,  and  eyelids. 
Old  Brooke  comes  sweeping  round  the  skirts  of  the  play, 
and  turning  short  round,  picks  out  the  very  heart  of  the 
scrummage,  and  plunges  in.  It  wavers  for  a  moment  —  he 
has  the  ball !  No,  it  has  passed  him,  and  his  voice  rings 
out  clear  over  the  advancing  tide,  '  Look  out  in  goal.'  Crab 
Jones  catches  it  for  a  moment ;  but  before  he  can  kick, 
the  rush  is  upon  him  and  passes  over  him  ;  and  he  picks 
himself  up  behind  them  with  his  straw  in  his  mouth,  a 
little  dirtier,  but  as  cool  as  ever. 


TOM'S    FIRST    EXPLOIT 

The  ball  rolls  slowly  in  behind  the  School-house  goal 
not  three  yards  in  front  of  a  dozen  of  the  biggest  School 
players-up. 

There  stand  the  School-house  praepostor,  safest  of  goal- 
keepers, and  Tom  Brown  by  his  side,  who  has  learned  his 
trade  by  this  time.  Now  is  your  time,  Tom.  The  blood  of 
all  the  Browns  is  up,  and  the  two  rush  in  together,  and 
throw  themselves  on  the  ball,  under  the  very  feet  of  the 
advancing  column  ;  the  praepostor  on  his  hands  and  knees 
arching  his  back,  and  Tom  all  along  on  his  face.  Over 
them  topple  the  leaders  of  the  rush,  shooting  over  the  back 
of  the  praepostor,  but  falling  flat  on  Tom,  and  knocking 
all  the  wind  out  of  his  small  carcass.  'Our  ball,'  says  the 
praepostor,  rising  with  his  prize,  '  but  get  up  there,  there  's 
a  little  fellow  under  you.'  They  are  hauled  and  roll  off 
him,  and  Tom  is  discovered  a  motionless  body. 

Old  Brooke  picks  him  up.  '  Stand  back,  give  him  air,' 
he  says ;  and  then  feeling  his  limbs,  adds,  '  No  bones 
broken.     How  do  feel,  young  un  } ' 

'Hah-hah,'  gasps  Tom  as  his  wind  comes  back,  'pretty 
well,  thank  you  —  all  right.' 

'  Who  is  he  .? '  says  Brooke. 

'Oh,  it's  Brown,  he's  a  new  boy;  I  know  him,'  says 
East,  coming  up. 

'  Well,  he  is  a  plucky  youngster,  and  will  make  a  player,' 
says  Brooke. 

And  five  o'clock  strikes.  '  No  side,'  is  called,  and  the 
first  day  of  the  School-house  match  is  over. 


[125] 


/   ^/>        'some  Foocfwe  f)ad. ' 
(Shakespeare 

^3  JTOTOS  aSv6. 
uf}eocrituS,ScL. 


Ctopter  VI 


After  tf-?e  A\atch 

(?^^^^^ns  tup:  boys  scattered  away  from  the 
CfiJ^Khl  ground,  and  East,  leaning  on  Tom's  arm, 
and  limping  along,  was  beginning  to  con- 
sider what  luxury  they  should  go  and  buy 
for  tea  to  celebrate  that  glorious  victory, 
the  two  Brookes  came  striding  by.  Old 
Brooke  caught  sight  of  East,  and  stopped  ;  put  his  hand 
kindly  on  his  shoulder  and  said,  '  Bravo,  youngster,  you 
played  famously  ;    not  much  the  matter,  I   hope  ? ' 

'No,  nothing  at  all,'  said  East,  'only  a  little  twist  from 
that  charge.' 

'  Well,  mind  and  get  all  right  for  next  Saturday  '  ;  and 
the  leader  passed  on,  leaving  East  better  for  those  few 
words  than  all  the  opodeldoc  in  England  would  have  made 
him,  and  Tom  ready  to  give  one  of  his  ears  for  as  much 
notice.     Ah !    light    words    of   those   whom   we    love   and 

[126] 


HARROWELL'S 

honour,  what  a  power  ye  are,  and  how  carelessly  wielded 
by  those  who  can  use  you  !  Surely  for  these  things  also 
God  will  ask  an  account. 

'Tea's  directly  after  locking-up,  you  see,'  said  East, 
hobbling  along  as  fast  as  he  could,  'so  you  come  along 
down  to  Sally  Harrowell's  ;  that 's  our  School-house  tuck- 
shop  — •  she  bakes  such  stunning  murphies,  we  '11  have  a 
penn'orth  each  for  tea ;  come  along,  or  they  '11  all  be  gone.' 

Tom's  new  purse  and  money  burnt  in  his  pocket ;  he 
wondered,  as  they  toddled  through  the  quadrangle  and 
along  the  street,  whether  East  would  be  insulted  if  he  sug- 
gested further  extravagance,  as  he  had  not  sufficient  -faith 
in  a  pennyworth  of  potatoes.  At  last  he  blurted  out,  — '  I 
say.  East,  can't  we  get  something  else  besides  potatoes? 
I  've  got  lots  of  money,  you  know.' 

'Bless  us,  yes,  I  forgot,'  said  East,  'you've  only  just 
come.  You  see  all  my  tin  's  been  gone  this  twelve  weeks, 
it  hardly  ever  lasts  beyond  the  first  fortnight ;  and  our  allow- 
ances were  all  stopped  this  morning  for  broken  windows, 
so  I  have  n't  got  a  penny.  I  've  got  a  tick  at  Sally's,  of 
course  ;  but  then  I  hate  running  it  high,  you  see,  towards 
the  end  of  the  half,  'cause  one  has  to  shell  out  for  it  all 
directly  one  comes  back,  and  that 's  a  bore.' 

Tom  didn't  understand  much  of  this  talk,  but  seized  on 
the  fact  that  East  had  no  money,  and  was  denying  himself 
some  little  pet  luxury  in  consequence.  'Well,  what  shall  I 
buy  .? '  said  he  ;   'I'm  uncommon  hungry.' 

'  I  say,'  said  East,  stopping  to  look  at  him  and  rest  his 
leg,  '  you  're  a  trump.  Brown.  I  '11  do  the  same  by  you  next 
half.  Let 's  have  a  pound  of  sausages,  then  ;  that 's  the  best 
grub  for  tea  I  know  of.' 

[127] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

'Very  well,'  said  Tom,  as  pleased  as  possible  ;  'where  do 
they  sell  them  ? ' 

'  Oh,  over  here,  just  opposite '  ;  and  they  crossed  the 
street  and  walked  into  the  cleanest  little  front  room  of  a 
small  house,  half  parlour,  half  shop,  and  bought  a  pound 
of  most  particular  sausages ;  East  talking  pleasantly  to 
Mrs.  Porter  while  she  put  them  in  paper,  and  Tom  doing 
the  paying  part. 

From  Porter's  they  adjourned  to  Sally  Harrowell's,  where 
they  found  a  lot  of  School-house  boys  waiting  for  the  roast 
potatoes,  and  relating  their  own  exploits  in  the  day's  match 
at  the  top  of  their  voices.  The  street  opened  at  once  into 
Sally's  kitchen,  a  low  brick-floored  room,  with  large  recess 
for  fire,  and  chimney-corner  seats.  Poor  little  Sally,  the 
most  good-natured  and  much  enduring  of  womankind,  was 
bustling  about  with  a  napkin  in  her  hand,  from  her  own 
oven  to  those  of  the  neighbours'  cottages,  up  the  yard  at 
the  back  of  the  house.  Stumps,  her  husband,  a  short  easy- 
going shoemaker,  with  a  beery  humorous  eye  and  ponder- 
ous calves,  who  lived  mostly  on  his  wife's  earnings,  stood 
in  a  corner  of  the  room,  exchanging  shots  of  the  roughest 
description  of  repartee  with  every  boy  in  turn.  '  Stumps,  you 
lout,  you've  had  too  much  beer  again  to-day.'  ''T  was  n't 
of  your  paying  for,  then.'  —  *  Stumps's  calves  are  running 
down  into  his  ankles,  they  want  to  get  to  grass.'  '  Better 
be  doing  that,  than  gone  altogether  like  yours,'  etc.,  etc. 
Very  poor  stuff  it  was,  but  it  served  to  make  time  pass  ; 
and  every  now  and  then  Sally  arrived  in  the  middle  with  a 
smoking  tin  of  potatoes,  which  was  cleared  off  in  a  few 
seconds,  each  boy  as  he  seized  his  lot  running  off  to  the 
house  with    '  Put    me    down    two-penn'orth,    Sally ' ;    '  Put 

[128] 


Aif^'^ 


LAWRENCE   SHERIFFE    STREET,    RUGBY 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

down  three-penn'orth  between  me  and  Davis,'  etc.  How 
she  ever  kept  the  accounts  so  straight  as  she  did,  in  her 
head,  and  on  her  slate,  was  a  perfect  wonder. 

East  and  Tom  got  served  at  last,  and  started  back  for 
the  School-house  just  as  the  locking-up  bell  began  to  ring ; 
East  on  the  way  recounting  the  life  and  adventures  of 
Stumps,  who  was  a  character.  Amongst  his  other  small 
avocations,  he  was  the  hind  carrier  of  a  sedan-chair,  the 
last  of  its  race,  in  which  the  Rugby  ladies  still  went  out  to 
tea,  and  in  which,  when  he  was  fairly  harnessed  and  carry- 
ing a  load,  it  was  the  delight  of  small  and  mischievous  boys 
to  follow  him  and  whip  his  calves.  This  was  too  much  for 
the  temper  even  of  Stumps,  and  he  would  pursue  his  tor- 
mentors in  a  vindictive  and  apoplectic  manner  when  released, 
but  was  easily  pacified  by  twopence  to  buy  beer  with. 

The  lower-school  boys  of  the  School-house,  some  fifteen 
in  number,  had  tea  in  the  lower-fifth  school,  and  were  pre- 
sided over  by  the  old  verger  or  head-porter.  Each  boy  had 
a  quarter  of  a  loaf  of  bread  and  pat  of  butter,  and  as  much 
tea  as  he  pleased  ;  and  there  was  scarcely  one  who  did  n't 
add  to  this  some  further  luxury,  such  as  baked  potatoes,  a 
herring,  sprats,  or  something  of  the  sort ;  but  few,  at  this 
period  of  the  half-year,  could  live  up  to  a  pound  of  Porter's 
sausages,  and  East  was  in  great  magnificence  upon  the 
strength  of  theirs.  He  had  produced  a  toasting-fork  from 
his  study,  and  set  Tom  to  toast  the  sausages,  while  he 
mounted  guard  over  their  butter  and  potatoes  ;  '  'cause,'  as 
he  explained,  '  you  're  a  new  boy,  and  they  '11  play  you  some 
trick  and  get  our  butter,  but  you  can  toast  just  as  well  as  I.' 
So  Tom,  in  the  midst  of  three  or  four  more  urchins  simi- 
larly employed,   toasted   his   face   and   the  sausages  at  the 

[130] 


IN   TOM    BROWN'S   DAY   THIS   WAS   THE    LOWER    FIFTH 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

same  time  before  the  huge  fire,  till  the  latter  cracked  ;  when 
East  from  his  watch-tower  shouted  that  they  were  done, 
and  then  the  feast  proceeded,  and  the  festive  cups  of  tea 
were  filled  and  emptied,  and  Tom  imparted  of  the  sausages 
in  small  bits  to  many  neighbours,  and  thought  he  had 
never  tasted  such  good  potatoes  or  seen  such  jolly  boys. 
They  on  their  parts  waived  all  ceremony,  and  pegged  away 
at  the  sausages  and  potatoes,  and  remembering  Tom's  per- 
formance in  goal,  voted  East's  new  crony  a  brick.  After 
tea,  and  while  the  things  were  being  cleared  away,  they 
gathered  round  the  fire,  and  the  talk  on  the  match  still 
went  on  ;  and  those  who  had  them  to  show,  pulled  up  their 
trousers  and  showed  the  hacks  they  had  received  in  the 
good  cause. 

They  were  soon,  however,  all  turned  out  of  the  school, 
and  East  conducted  Tom  up  to  his  bedroom,  that  he  might 
get  on  clean  things  and  wash  himself  before  singing. 

*  What 's  singing  .'* '  said  Tom,  taking  his  head  out  of  his 
basin,  where  he  had  been  plunging  it  in  cold  water. 

'Well,  you  are  jolly  green,'  answered  his  friend  from  a 
neighbouring  basin.  '  Why,  the  last  six  Saturdays  of  every 
half,  we  sing  of  course  :  and  this  is  the  first  of  them.  No  first 
lesson  to  do,  you  know,  and  lie  in  bed  to-morrow  morning.' 

*  But  who  sings  } ' 

*  Why  everybody,  of  course ;  you  '11  see  soon  enough. 
We  begin  directly  after  supper,  and  sing  till  bed-time.  It 
ain't  such  good  fun  now  tho'  as  in  the  summer  half,  'cause 
then  we  sing  in  the  little  fives'  court,  under  the  library,  you 
know.  We  take  out  tables,  and  the  big  boys  sit  round,  and 
drink  beer ;  double  allowance  on  Saturday  nights ;  and  we 
cut  about  the  quadrangle  between  the  songs,  and  it  looks 

[132] 


SHOWED  THE  HACKS  THEY  HAD  RECEIVED' 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

like  a  lot  of  robbers  in  a  cave.  And  the  louts  come  and 
pound  at  the  great  gates,  and  we  pound  back  again,  and 
shout  at  them.  But  this  half  we  only  sing  in  the  hall. 
Come  along  down  to  my  study.' 

Their  principal  employment  in  the  study  was  to  clear  out 
East's  table,  removing  the  drawers  and  ornaments  and 
tablecloth  ;  for  he  lived  in  the  bottom  passage,  and  his 
table  was  in  requisition  for  the  singing. 

Supper  came  in  due  course  at  seven  o'clock,  consisting 
of  bread  and  cheese  and  beer,  which  was  all  saved  for  the 
singing  ;  and  directly  afterwards  the  fags  went  to  work  to 
prepare  the  hall.  The  School-house  hall,  as  has  been  said, 
is  a  great  long  high  room,  with  two  large  fires  on  one  side, 
and  two  large  iron-bound  tables,  one  running  down  the 
middle,  and  the  other  along  the  wall  opposite  the  fire- 
places. Around  the  upper  fire  the  fags  placed  the  tables 
in  the  form  of  a  horse-shoe,  and  upon  them  the  jugs  with 
the  Saturday  night's  allowance  of  beer.  Then  the  big  boys 
used  to  drop  in  and  take  their  seats,  bringing  with  them 
bottled  beer  and  song-books  ;  for  although  they  all  knew 
the  songs  by  heart,  it  was  the  thing  to  have  an  old  manu- 
script book  descended  from  some  departed  hero,  in  which 
they  were  all  carefully  written  out. 

The  sixth-form  boys  had  not  yet  appeared  ;  so  to  fill  up 
the  gap,  an  interesting  and  time-honoured  ceremony  was 
gone  through.  Each  new  boy  was  placed  on  the  table  in 
turn,  and  made  to  sing  a  solo,  under  the  penalty  of  drink- 
ing a  large  mug  of  salt  and  water  if  he  resisted  or  broke 
down.  However,  the  new  boys  all  sing  like  nightingales 
to-night,  and  the  salt  water  is  not  in  requisition ;  Tom, 
V^  his    part,    performing    the    old   West-country   song    of 

[134] 


'EACH    NEW    BOY    WAS  .  .   .  MADE   TO    SING   A    SOLO' 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

'  The  Leather  Bottel  '  with  considerable  applause.  And  at 
the  half-hour  down  come  the  sixth  and  fifth  form  boys,  and 
take  their  places  at  the  tables,  which  are  filled  up  by  the 
next  biggest  boys,  the  rest,  for  whom  there  is  no  room  at 
the  tables,  standing  round  outside. 

The  glasses  and  mugs  are  filled,  and  then  the  fugleman 
strikes  up  the  old  sea  song  — 

'  A  wet  sheet  and  a  flowing  sea, 
And  a  wind  that  follows  fast,'  etc. 

which  is  the  invariable  first  song  in  the  School-house,  and 
all  the  seventy  voices  join  in,  not  mindful  of  harmony,  but 
bent  on  noise,  which  they  attain  decidedly,  but  the  general 
effect  isn't  bad.  And  then  follow  the  'British  Grenadiers,' 
'Billy  Taylor,'  'The  Siege  of  Seringapatam,'  'Three  Jolly 
Postboys,'  and  other  vociferous  songs  in  rapid  succession, 
including  the  '  Chesapeake  and  Shannon,'  a  song  lately 
introduced  in  honour  of  old  Brooke  ;  and  when  they  come 
to  the  words  — 

'  Brave  Broke  he  waved  his  sword,  crying,  "  Now,  my  lads,  aboard. 
And  we  '11  stop  their  playing  Yankee-doodle-dandy  oh  !  "  ' 

you  expect  the  roof  to  come  down.  The  sixth  and  fifth 
know  that  '  Brave  Broke '  of  the  Shannon  was  no  sort  of 
relation  to  our  old  Brooke.  The  fourth  form  are  uncertain 
in  their  belief,  but  for  the  most  part  hold  that  old  Brooke 
was  a  midshipman  then  on  board  his  uncle's  ship.  And 
the  lower  school  never  doubt  for  a  moment  that  it  was  our 
old  Brooke  who  led  the  boarders,  in  what  capacity  they  care 
not  a  straw.  During  the  pauses  the  bottled-beer  corks  fly 
rapidly,  and  the  talk  is  fast  and  merry,  and  the  big  boys, 
at  least  all  of  them  who  have  a  fellow-feeling  for  dry  throats, 

[136] 


BROOKE'S    HONOURS 

hand  their  mugs  over  their  shoulders  to  be  emptied  by  the 
small  ones  who  stand  round  behind. 

Then  Warner,  the  head  of  the  house,  gets  up  and  wants 
to  speak,  but  he  can't,  for  every  boy  knows  what 's  coming ; 
and  the  big  boys  who  sit  at  the  tables  pound  them  and 
cheer ;  and  the  small  boys  who  stand  behind  pound  one 
another,  and  cheer,  and  rush  about  the  hall  cheering.  Then, 
silence  being  made,  Warner  reminds  them  of  the  old 
School-house  custom  of  drinking  the  healths,  on  the  first 
night  of  singing,  of  those  who  are  going  to  leave  at  the 
end  of  the  half.  '  He  sees  that  they  know  what  he  is  going 
to  say  already — (loud  cheers) — and  so  won't  keep  them, 
but  only  ask  them  to  treat  the  toast  as  it  deserves.  It  is 
the  head  of  the  eleven,  the  head  of  big-side  football,  their 
leader  on  this  glorious  day  —  Pater  Brooke !  ' 

And  away  goes  the  pounding  and  cheering  again,  becom- 
ing deafening  when  old  Brooke  gets  on  his  legs  :  till,  a 
table  having  broken  down,  and  a  gallon  or  so  of  beer  been 
upset,  and  all  throats  getting  dry,  silence  ensues,  and  the 
hero  speaks,  leaning  his  hands  on  the  table,  and  bending 
a  little  forwards.  No  action,  no  tricks  of  oratory ;  plain, 
strong,    and   straight,    like   his   play. 

*  Gentlemen  of  the  School-house !  I  am  very  proud  of 
the  way  in  which  you  have  received  my  name,  and  I  wish 
I  could  say  all  I  should  like  in  return.  But  I  know  I  shan't. 
However,  I  '11  do  the  best  I  can  to  say  what  seems  to  me 
ought  to  be  said  by  a  fellow  who  's  just  going  to  leave,  and 
who  has  spent  a  good  slice  of  his  life  here.  Eight  years  it 
is,  and  eight  such  years  as  I  can  never  hope  to  have  again. 
So  now  I  hope  you  '11  all  listen  to  me  —  (loud  cheers  of 
'that  we  will')  —  for  I'm  going  to  talk  seriously.    You're 

[137] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

bound  to  listen  to  me,  for  what 's  the  use  of  calhng  me 
"pater,"  and  all  that,  if  you  don't  mind  what  I  say?  And 
I'm  going  to  talk  seriously,  because  I  feel  so.  It's  a  jolly 
time,  too,  getting  to  the  end  of  the  half,  and  a  goal  kicked 
by  us  first  day  —  (tremendous  applause)  —  after  one  of  the 
hardest  and  fiercest  day's  play  I  can  remember  in  eight 
years  —  (frantic  shoutings).  The  School  played  splendidly, 
too,  I  will  say,  and  kept  it  up  to  the  last.  That  last  charge 
of  theirs  would  have  carried  away  a  house.  I  never  thought 
to  see  anything  again  of  old  Crab  there,  except  little  pieces, 
when  I  saw  him  tumbled  over  by  it  —  (laughter  and  shout- 
ing, and  great  slapping  on  the  back  of  Jones  by  the  boys 
nearest  him).  Well,  but  we  beat  'em  —  (cheers).  Aye,  but 
why  did  we  beat  'em  ?  answer  me  that  —  (shouts  of  '  your 
play').  Nonsense!  'Twasn't  the  wind  and  kick-off  either 
—  that  wouldn't  do  it.  'Twasn't  because  we've  half  a 
dozen  of  the  best  players  in  the  school,  as  we  have.  I 
would  n't  change  Warner,  and  Hedge,  and  Crab,  and  the 
young  un,  for  any  six  on  their  side  —  (violent  cheers).  But 
half  a  dozen  fellows  can't  keep  it  up  for  two  hours  against 
two  hundred.  Why  is  it,  then  ?  I  '11  tell  you  what  I  think. 
It 's  because  we  've  more  reliance  on  one  another,  more  of 
a  house  feeling,  more  fellowship  than  the  School  can  have. 
Each  of  us  knows  and  can  depend  on  his  next  hand  man 
better  —  that 's  why  we  beat  'em  to-day.  We  've  union, 
they  've  division  — there  's  the  secret  —  (cheers).  But  how  's 
this  to  be  kept  up  ?  How  's  it  to  be  improved  .?  That 's  the 
question.  For  I  take  it,  we  're  all  in  earnest  about  beat- 
ing the  School,  whatever  else  we  care  about.  I  know  I'd 
sooner  win  two  School-house  matches  running  than  get  the 
Balliol  scholarship  any  day  —  (frantic  cheers). 

[^38] 


BROOKE    DISCOURSETH 

'Now  I'm  as  proud  of  the  house  as  any  one.  I  beHeve 
it's  the  best  hou&e  in  the  school,  out-and-out  —  (cheers).  But 
it 's  a  long  way  from  what  I  want  to  see  it.  First,  there  's 
a  deal  of  bullying  going  on.  I  know  it  well.  I  don't  pry 
about  and  interfere  ;  that  only  makes  it  more  underhand, 
and  encourages  the  small  boys  to  come  to  us  with  their 
fingers  in  their  eyes  telling  tales,  and  so  we  should  be  worse 
off  than  ever.  It 's  very  little  kindness  for  the  sixth  to 
meddle  generally  —  you  youngsters,  mind  that.  You'll  be 
all  the  better  football  players  for  learning  to  stand  it,  and 
to  take  your  own  parts,  and  fight  it  through.  But  depend 
on  it,  there  's  nothing  breaks  up  a  house  like  bullying. 
Bullies  are  cowards,  and  one  coward  makes  many ;  so  good- 
bye to  the  School-house  match  if  bullying  gets  ahead  here. 
(Loud  applause  from  the  small  boys,  who  look  meaningly 
at  Flashman  and  other  boys  at  the  tables.)  Then  there  's 
fuddling  about  in  the  public-house,  and  drinking  bad  spirits, 
and  punch,  and  such  rot-gut  stuff.  That  won't  make  good 
drop-kicks  or  chargers,  of  you,  take  my  word  for  it.  You  get 
plenty  of  good  beer  here,  and  that 's  enough  for  you  ;  and 
drinking  isn't  fine  or  manly,  whatever  some  of  you  may 
think  of  it. 

'  One  other  thing  I  must  have  a  word  about.  A  lot  of 
you  think  and  say,  for  I  've  heard  you,  "  There  's  this  new 
Doctor  hasn't  been  here  so  long  as  some  of  us,  and  he's 
changing  all  the  old  customs.  Rugby,  and  the  School-house 
especially,  are  going  to  the  dogs.  Stand  up  for  the  good 
old  ways,  and  down  with  the  Doctor!"  Now  I'm  as  fond 
of  old  Rugby  customs  and  ways  as  any  of  you,  and  I  've 
been  here  longer  than  any  of  you,  and  I  '11  give  you  a  word 
of  advice  in  time,  for  I  should  n't  like  to  see  any  of  you 

[  139] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

getting  sacked.  "  Down  with  the  doctor  "  's  easier  said  than 
done.  You  '11  find  him  pretty  tight  on  his  perch,  I  take  it, 
and  an  awkwardish  customer  to  handle  in  that  line.  Besides 
now,  what  customs  has  he  put  down  ?  There  was  the  good 
old  custom  of  taking  the  linchpins  out  of  the  farmers'  and 
bagmen's  gigs  at  the  fairs,  and  a  cowardly  blackguard  custom 
it  was.  We  all  know  what  came  of  it,  and  no  wonder  the 
Doctor  objected  to  it.  Hut,  come  now,  any  of  you,  name  a 
custom  that  he  has  put  down.' 

'The  hounds,'  calls  out  a  fifth-form  boy,  clad  in  a  green 
cutaway  with  brass  buttons  and  cord  trousers,  the  leader  of 
the  sporting  interest,  and  reputed  a  great  rider  and  keen 
hand  generally. 

•  Well,  we  had  six  or  seven  mangey  harriers  and  beagles 
belonging  to  the  house,  I  '11  allow,  and  had  had  them  for 
years,  and  that  the  Doctor  put  them  down,  liut  what  good 
ever  came  of  them  ?  Only  rows  with  all  the  keepers  for 
ten  miles  round  ;  and  big-side  Hare  and  Hounds  is  better 
fun  ten  times  over.     What  else  ? ' 

No  answer. 

'Well,  I  won't  go  on.  Think  it  over  for  yourselves: 
you  '11  find,  I  believe,  that  he  don't  meddle  with  any  one 
that 's  worth  keeping.  And  mind  now,  I  say  again,  look 
out  for  squalls,  if  you  will  go  your  own  way,  and  that  way 
ain't  the  Doctor's,  for  it  '11  lead  to  grief.  You  all  know  that 
I'm  not  the  fellow  to  back  a  master  through  thick  and  thin. 
If  I  saw  him  stopping  football,  or  cricket,  or  bathing,  or 
sparring,  I'd  be  as  ready  as  any  fellow  to  stand  up  about 
it.  But  he  don't  —  he  encourages  them;  didn't  you  see 
him  out  to-day  for  half  an  hour  watching  us  ?  (loud  cheers 
for  the  Doctor) ;  and  he  's  a  strong  true  man,  and  a  wise  one 

[140] 


I 


BROOKE    STANDS    UP    FOR    THE    DOCTOR 

too,  and  a  public-school  man  too.    (Cheers.)    And  so  let's 
stick  to  him,  and  talk  no  more  rot,  and  drink  his  health  as 


/\.V 


yV*-\"Mir^^ 


^fc®    ; 


M  I 


•-  A'l^U^?^^™ 


!^r- 


I'. 


ifei^  "«-  P^jt^W^virM 


l^^^4 


'■•  J-  -tS^^S'  — 


_,'^- 


..,_^ 


THE  SCHOOL  AND  THE  NEW  CHAPEL  FROM  THE  CLOSE, 
AT  THE  PRESENT  DAY 

the  head  of  the  house.  (Loud  cheers.)  And  now  I  've  done 
blowing  up,  and  very  glad  I  am  to  have  done.  But  it 's  a 
solemn  thing  to  be  thinking  of  leaving  a  place  which  one 
has  lived   in  and  loved  for  eight  years ;    and  if   one   can 

[141] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

say  a  word  for  the  good  of  the  old  house  at  such  a  time, 
why,  it  should  be  said,  whether  bitter  or  sweet.  If  I  hadn't 
been  proud  of  the  house  and  you  —  aye,  no  one  knows  how 
proud  —  I  should  n't  be  blowing  you  up.  And  now  let 's  get 
to  singing.  But  before  I  sit  down  I  must  give  you  a  toast  to 
be  drunk  with  three-times-three  and  all  the  honours.  It 's 
a  toast  which  I  hope  every  one  of  us,  wherever  he  may  go 
hereafter,  will  never  fail  to  drink  when  he  thinks  of  the 
brave  bright  days  of  his  boyhood.  It 's  a  toast  which  should 
bind  us  all  together,  and  to  those  who  've  gone  before,  and 
who'll  come  after  us  here.     It  is  the  dear  old  School-house 

—  the  best  house  of  the  best  school  in  luigland  !  ' 

My  dear  boys,  old  and  young,  you  who  have  belonged, 
or  do  belong,  to  other  schools  and  other  houses,  don't  begin 
throwing  my  poor  little  book  about  the  room,  and  abusing 
me  and  it,  and  vowing  you  '11  read  no  more  when  you  get  to 
this  point.    I  allow  you  've  provocation  for  it.    But,  come  now 

—  would  you,  any  of  you,  give  a  fig  for  a  fellow  who  did  n't 
believe  in,  and  stand  up  for  his  own  house  and  his  own 
school  .-*  You  know  you  would  n't.  Then  don't  object  to  my 
cracking  up  the  old  School-house,  Rugby.  Haven't  I  a  right 
to  do  it,  when  I'm  taking  all-  the  trouble  of  writing  this  true 
history  for  all  of  your  benefits .''  If  you  ain't  satisfied,  go 
and  write  the  histor\'  of  your  own  houses  in  your  own. times, 
and  say  all  you  know  for  your  own  schools  and  houses, 
provided  it 's  true,  and  I  '11  read  it  without  abusing  you. 

The  last  few  words  hit  the  audience  in  their  weakest 
place  ;  they  had  been  not  altogether  enthusiastic  at  several 
parts  of  old  Brooke's  speech  ;  but  '  the  best  house  of  the 
best  school  in  England  '  was  too  much  for  them  all,  and  car- 
ried even  the  sporting  and  drinking  interests  off  their  legs 

[142] 


SCHOOL    IDOLATRIES 

into  rapturous  applause,  and  (it  is  to  be  hoped)  resolutions 
to  lead  a  new  life  and  remember  old  Brooke's  words  ;  which, 
however,  they  did  n't  altogether  do,  as  will  appear  hereafter. 

But  it  required  all  old  Brooke's  popularity  to  carry  down 
parts  of  his  speech  ;  especially  that  relating  to  the  Doctor. 
For  there  are  no  such  bigoted  holders  by  established  forms 
and  customs,  be  they  never  so  foolish  or  meaningless,  as 
English  schoolboys,  at  least  as  the  schoolboys  of  our  genera- 
tion. We  magnified  into  heroes  every  boy  who  had  left, 
and  looked  upon  him  with  awe  and  reverence,  when  he 
revisited  the  place  a  year  or  so  afterwards,  on  his  way  to 
or  from  Oxford  or  Cambridge  ;  and  happy  was  the  boy  who 
remembered  him,  and  sure  of  an  audience  as  he  expounded 
what  he  used  to  do  and  say,  though  it  were  sad  enough 
stuff  to  make  angels,  not  to  say  head  masters,  weep. 

We  looked  upon  every  trumpery  little  custom  and  habit 
which  had  obtained  in  the  school  as  though  it  had  been  a 
law  of  the  Medes  and  Persians,  and  regarded  the  infringe- 
ment or  variation  of  it  as  a  sort  of  sacrilege.  And  the 
Doctor,  than  whom  no  man  or  boy  had  a  stronger  liking 
for  old  school  customs  which  were  good  and  sensible,  had, 
as  has  already  been  hinted,  come  into  most  decided  collision 
with  several  which  were  neither  the  one  nor  the  other.  And 
as  old  Brooke  had  said,  when  he  came  into  collision  with 
boys  or  customs,  there  was  nothing  for  them  but  to  give  in 
or  take  themselves  off ;  because  what  he  said  had  to  be 
done,  and  no  mistake  about  it.  And  this  was  beginning  to 
be  pretty  clearly  understood  ;  the  boys  felt  that  there  was 
a  strong  man  over  them,  who  would  have  things  his  own 
way  ;  and  had  n't  yet  learned  that  he  was  a  wise  and  loving 
man  also.     His   personal   character  and  influence  had   not 

[143] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

had  time  to  make  itself  felt,  except  by  a  very  few  of  the 
bigger  boys  with  whom  he  came  more  directly  in  contact ; 
and  he  was  looked  upon  with  great  fear  and  dislike  by  the 
great  majority  even  of  his  own  house.  For  he  had  found 
School,  and  School-house,  in  a  state  of  monstrous  licence 
and  misrule,  and  was  still  employed  in  the  necessary  but 
unpopular  work  of  setting  up  order  with  a  strong  hand. 

However,  as  has  been  said,  old  Brooke  triumphed,  and 
the  boys  cheered  him,  and  then  the  Doctor.  And  then  more 
songs  came,  and  the  healths  of  the  other  boys  about  to 
leave,  who  each  made  a  speech,  one  flowery,  another  maudlin, 
a  third  prosy,  and  so  on,  which  are  not  necessary  to  be 
here  recorded. 

Half-past  nine  struck  in  the  middle  of  the  performance 
of  '  Auld  Lang  Syne,'  a  most  obstreperous  proceeding;  dur- 
ing which  there  was  an  immense  amount  of  standing  with 
one  foot  on  the  table,  knocking  mugs  together  and  shaking 
hands,  without  which  accompaniments  it  seems  impossible 
for  the  youth  of  Britain  to  take  part  in  that  famous  old 
song.  The  under-porter  of  the  School-house  entered  during 
the  performance,  bearing  five  or  six  long  wooden  candle- 
sticks, with  lighted  dips  in  them,  which  he  proceeded  to 
stick  into  their  holes  in  such  part  of  the  great  tables  as  he 
could  get  at ;  and  then  stood  outside  the  ring  till  the  end 
of  the  song,  when  he  was  hailed  with  shouts. 

*  Bill,  you  old  muff,  the  half-hour  has  n't  struck.' 

'Here,  Bill,  drink  some  cocktail,'  'Sing  us  a  song,  old 
boy,'  '  Don't  you  wish  you  may  get  the  table  ? '  Bill  drank 
the  proffered  cocktail  not  unwillingly,  and  putting  down  the 
empty  glass,  remonstrated,  '  Now,  gentlemen,  there  's  only 
ten  minutes  to  prayers,  and  we  must  get  the  hall  straight.' 

[144] 


'AULD    LANG   SVNK' 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

Shouts  of  '  No,  no !  '  and  a  violent  effort  to  strike  up 
*  Billy  Taylor '  for  the  third  time.  Bill  looked  appealingly 
to  old  Brooke,  who  got  up  and  stopped  the  noise.  '  Now 
then,  lend  a  hand,  you  youngsters,  and  get  the  tables  back, 
clear  away  the  jugs  and  glasses.  Bill 's  right.  Open  the 
windows,  Warner.'  The  boy  addressed,  who  sat  by  the  long 
ropes,  proceeded  to  pull  up  the  great  windows,  and  let  in 
a  clear  fresh  rush  of  night  air,  which  made  the  candles 
flicker  and  gutter,  and  the  fires  roar.  The  circle  broke. up, 
each  collaring  his  own  jug,  glass,  and  song-book ;  Bill 
pounced  on  the  big  table,  and  began  to  rattle  it  away  to 
its  place  outside  the  buttery-door,  llie  lower-passage  boys 
carried  off  their  small  tables,  aided  by  their  friends,  while 
above  all,  standing  on  the  great  hall-table,  a  knot  of  untiring 
sons  of  harmony  made  night  doleful  by  a  prolonged  per- 
formance of  'God  save  the  King.'  His  Majesty  King 
William  IV  then  reigned  over  us,  a  monarch  deservedly 
popular  amongst  the  boys  addicted  to  melody,  to  whom  he 
was  chiefly  known  from  the  beginning  of  that  excellent,  if 
slightly  \ailgar,  song  in  which  they  much  delighted  — 

'  Come,  neighbours  all,  both  great  and  small, 

Perform  your  duties  here, 
And  loudly  sing  "  live  Billy  our  king," 
For  bating  the  tax  upon  beer.' 

Others  of  the  more  learned  in  songs  also  celebrated  his 
praises  in  a  sort  of  ballad,  which  I  take  to  have  been  written 
by  some  Irish  loyalist.  I  have  forgotten  all  but  the  chorus, 
which  ran  — 

'  God  save  our  good  King  William,  be  his  name  for  ever  blest. 
He 's  the  father  of  all  his  people,  and  the  guardian  of  all  the  rest.' 

[146] 


PRAYERS 

In  troth  we  were  loyal  subjects  in  those  days,  in  a  rough 
way.  I  trust  that  our  successors  make  as  much  of  her 
present  Majesty,  and,  having  regard  to  the  greater  refine- 
ment of  the  times,  have  adopted  or  written  other  songs 
equally  hearty,  but  more  civilized,  in  her  honour. 

Then  the  quarter  to  ten  struck,  and  the  prayer-bell  rang. 
The  sixth-  and  fifth-form  boys  ranged  themselves  in  their 
school  order  along  the  wall,  on  either  side  of  the  great  fires, 
the  middle-fifth  and  upper-school  boys  round  the  long  table 
in  the  middle  of  the  hall,  and  the  lower-school  boys  round 
the  upper  part  of  the  second  long  table,  which  ran  down  the 
side  of  the  hall  furthest  from  the  fires.  Here  Tom  found 
himself  at  the  bottom  of  all,  in  a  state  of  mind  and  body 
not  at  all  fit  for  prayers,  as  he  thought ;  and  so  tried  hard 
to  make  himself  serious,  but  could  n't,  for  the  life  of  him, 
do  anything  but  repeat  in  his  head  the  choruses  of  some  of 
the  songs,  and  stare  at  all  the  boys  opposite,  wondering  at 
the  brilliancy  of  their  waistcoats,  and  speculating  what  sort 
of  fellows  they  were.  .The  steps  of  the  head-porter  are  heard 
on  the  stairs,  and  a  light  gleams  at  the  door.  '  Hush  !  '  from 
the  fifth-form  boys  who  stand  there,  and  then  in  strides 
the  Doctor,  cap  on  head,  book  in  one  hand,  and  gathering 
up  his  gown  in  the  other.  He  walks  up  the  middle,  and 
takes  his  post  by  Warner,  who  begins  calling  over  the 
names.  The  Doctor  takes  no  notice  of  anything,  but  quietly 
turns  over  his  book  and  finds  the  place,  and  then  stands, 
cap  in  hand  and  finger  in  book,  looking  straight  before  his 
nose.  He  knows  better  than  any  one  when  to  look,  and 
when  to  see  nothing ;  to-night  is  singing  night,  and  there  's 
been  lots  of  noise  and  no  harm  done ;  nothing  but  beer 
drunk,  and  nobody  the  worse  for  it ;   though  some  of  them 

[x47] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

do  look  hot  and  excited.  So  the  Doctor  sees  nothing,  but 
fascinates  Tom  in  a  horrible  manner  as  he  stands  there,  and 
reads  out  the  Psalm  in  that  deep,  ringing,  searching  voice 
of  his.  Prayers  are  over,  and  Tom  still  stares  open-mouthed 
after  the  Doctor's  retiring  figure,  when  he  feels  a  pull  at 
his  sleeve,  and  turning  round,  sees  East. 

'  I  say,  were  you  ever  tossed  in  a  blanket .'' ' 

'  No,'  said  Tom  ;  '  why  ? ' 

'  'Cause  there  '11  be  tossing  to-night,  most  likely,  before 
the  sixth  come  up  to  bed.  So  if  you  funk,  you  just  come 
along  and  hide,  or  else  they  '11  catch  you  and  toss  you.' 

'  Were  you  ever  tossed  ?     Does  it  hurt  ?  '  inquired  Tom. 

*  Oh  yes,  bless  you,  a  dozen  times,'  said  East,  as  he 
hobbled  along  by  Tom's  side  upstairs.  '  It  don't  hurt  unless 
you  fall  on  the  floor.    But  most  fellows  don't  like  it.' 

They  stopped  at  the  fireplace  in  the  top  passage,  where 
were  a  crowd  of  small  boys  whispering  together,  and  evi- 
dently unwilling  to  go  up  into  the  bedrooms.  In  a  minute, 
however,  a  study  door  opened,  and  a  sixth-form  boy  came 
out,  and  off  they  all  scuttled  up  the  stairs,  and  then  noise- 
lessly dispersed  to  their  different  rooms.  Tom's  heart  beat 
rather  quick  as  he  and  East  reached  their  room,  but  he  had 
made  up  his  mind.     '  I  shan't  hide.  East,'  said  he. 

'Very  well,  old  fellow,'  replied  East,  evidently  pleased, 
'no  more  shall  I  —  they'll  be  here  for  us  directly.' 

The  room  was  a  great  big  one  with  a  dozen  beds  in  it, 
but  not  a  boy  that  Tom  could  see,  except  East  and  himself. 
East  pulled  off  his  coat  and  waistcoat,  and  then  sat  on  the 
bottom  of  his  bed,  whistling,  and  pulling  off  his  boots ; 
Tom  followed  his  example. 

A  noise  and  steps  are '  heard  in  the  passage,  the  door 

[148] 


TOSSING 

opens,  and  in  rush  four  or  five  great  fifth-form  boys,  headed 
by  Flashman  in  his  glory. 

Tom  and  East  slept  in  the  further  corner  of  the  room, 
and  were  not  seen  at  first. 

'  Gone  to  ground,  eh  ? '  roared  Flashman  ;  '  push  'em  out 
then,  boys  ;  look  under  the  beds  '  ;  and  he  pulled  up  the 
little  white  curtain  of  the  one  nearest  him.  '  Who-o-op,'  he 
roared,  pulling  away  at  the  leg  of  a  small  boy,  who  held  on 
tight  to  the  leg  of  the  bed,  and  sung  out  lustily  for  mercy. 

*  Here,  lend  a  hand,  one  of  you,  and  help  me  pull  out 
this  young  howling  brute.  Hold  your  tongue,  sir,  or  I  '11 
kill  you.' 

'  Oh,  please,  Flashman,  please,  Walker,  don't  toss  me  ! 
I  '11  fag  for  you,   I  '11  do  anything,  only  don't  toss  me.' 

'You  be  hanged,'  said  Flashman,  lugging  the  wretched 

boy  along,  '  't  won't  hurt  you, you  !     Come  along,  boys, 

here  he  is.' 

'I  say,  Flashey,'  sung  out  another  of  the  big  boys,  'drop 
that ;  you  heard  what  old  Pater  Brooke  said  to-night.  I  '11 
be  hanged  if  we  '11  toss  any  one  against  their  will  —  no 
more  bullying.     Let  him  go,   I  say.' 

Flashman,  with  an  oath  and  a  kick,  released  his  prey, 
who  rushed  headlong  under  his  bed  again,  for  fear  they 
should  change  their  minds,  and  crept  along  underneath 
the  other  beds,  till  he  got  under  that  of  the  sixth-form  boy, 
which  he  knew  they  daren't  disturb. 

'There's  plenty  of  youngsters  don't  care  about  it,'  said 
Walker.  '  Here,  here  's  Scud  East  —  you  '11  be  tossed,  won't 
you,  young  un  .? '  Scud  was  East's  nickname,  or  Black,  as 
we  called  it,  gained  by  his  fleetness  of  foot. 

'Yes,'  said  East,  'if  you  like,  only  mind  my  foot.' 

[149] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 


'And  here's  another  who  didn't  hide.  Hullo!  new  boy; 
what 's  your  name,  sir  ? ' 

'  Brown.' 

'  Well,  Whitey  Brown,  you  don't  mind  being  tossed  ? ' 

'  No,'  said  Tom,  setting  his  teeth. 

*  Come  along  then,  boys,'  sung  out  Walker,  and  away 
they  all  went,  carrying  along  Tom  and  East,  to  the  intense 
relief  of  four  or  five  other  small  boys,  who  crept  out  from 
under  the  beds  and  behind  them. 

'  What  a  trump  Scud  is  !  '  said  one.  '  They  won't  come 
back  here  now.' 

'  And  that  new  boy,  too  ;  he  must  be  a  good  plucked  one.' 

'  Ah  !  wait  till  he  has  been  tossed  on  to  the  floor ;  see 
how  he  '11  like  it  then  !  ' 

Meantime  the  procession  went  down  the  passage  to 
Number  7,  the  largest  room,  and  the  scene  of  tossing,  in 
the  middle  of  which  was  a  great  open  space.  Here  they 
joined  other  parties  of  the  bigger  boys,  each  with  a  captive 
or  two,  some  willing  to  be  tossed,  some  sullen,  and  some 
frightened  to  death.  At  Walker's  suggestion  all  who  were 
afraid  were  let  off,  in  honour  of  Pater  Brooke's  speech. 

Then  a  dozen  big  boys  seized  hold  of  a  blanket  dragged 
from  one  of  the  beds.  '  In  with  Scud,  quick,  there  's  no 
time  to  lose.'  East  was  chucked  into  the  blanket.  '  Once, 
twice,  thrice,  and  away  '  ;  up  he  went  like  a  shuttlecock, 
but  not  quite  up  to  the  ceiling. 

'Now,  boys,  with  a  will,'  cried  W^alker,  'once,  twice, 
thrice,  and  away !  '  This  time  he  went  clean  up,  and  kept 
himself  from  touching  the  ceiling  with  his  hand,  and  so 
again  a  third  time,  when  he  was  turned  out,  and  up  went 
another  boy.     And  then  came  Tom's  turn.     He  lay  quite 


'WHO-O-OP, "    HE    ROARED,    PULLING    AWAY   AT   THE    LEG 

OF   A   SMALL   BOY' 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

still,  by  East's  advice,  and  didn't  dislike  the  'once,  twice, 
thrice  '  ;  but  the  '  away  '  was  n't  so  pleasant.  They  were  in 
good  wind  now,  and  sent  him  slap  up  to  the  ceiling  first 


j6    i&    <ip~~&    G    ((s' 


'ONCE,    TWICE,    THRICE,   AND   AWAY' 

time,  against  which  his  knees  came  rather  sharply.  But  the 
moment's  pause  before  descending  was  the  rub,  the  feeling 
of  utter  helplessness  and  of  leaving  his  whole  inside  behind 
him  sticking  to  the  ceiling.     Tom  was  very  near  shouting 

[152] 


EAST  AND    TOM    ARE    TOSSED 

to  be  set  down,  when  he  found  himself  back  in  the  blanket, 
but  thought  of  East,  and  did  n't ;  and  so  took  his  three 
tosses  without  a  kick  or  a  cry,  and  was  called  a  young  trump 
for  his  pains. 

He  and  East,  having  earned  it,  stood  now  looking  on. 
No  catastrophe  happened,  as  all  the  captives  were  cool 
hands,  and  didn't  struggle.  This  didn't  suit  Flashman, 
What  your  real  bully  likes  in  tossing  is  when  the  boys  kick 
and  struggle,  or  hold  on  to  one  side  of  the  blanket,  and  so 
get  pitched  bodily  on  to  the  floor ;  it 's  no  fun  to  him  when 
no  one  is  hurt  or  frightened. 

'  Let's  toss  two  of  them  together,  Walker,'  suggested  he. 

*  What  a  cursed  bully  you  are,  Flashey  !  '  rejoined  the 
other.    '  Up  with  another  one.' 

And  so  no  two  boys  were  tossed  together,  the  peculiar 
hardship  of  which  is,  that  it 's  too  much  for  human  nature 
to  lie  still  then  and  share  troubles  ;  and  so  the  wretched 
pair  of  small  boys  struggle  in  the  air  which  shall  fall  a-top 
in  the  descent,  to  the  no  small  risk  of  both  falling  out  of 
the  blanket,  and  the  huge  delight  of  brutes  like  Flashman. 

But  now  there  's  a  cry  that  the  praepostor  of  the  room 
is  coming ;  so  the  tossing  stops,  and  all  scatter  to  their 
different  rooms  ;  and  Tom  is  left  to  turn  in,  with  the  first 
day's  experience  of  a  public  school  to  meditate  upon. 


[^53] 


CtiapierVK 
S^Mwig  to  lSh  Coiar 

Says  Giles,  "  ^T  is  mortal  hard  to  go. 

But  if  so  be''  s  I  must : 
I  means  to  follow  arter  he 

As  goes  his  self  the  fust.'"''  ' 

Ballad 

"VERYBODY,  I  suppose,  knows  the 
dreamy  delicious  state  in  which  one  Hes, 
half  asleep,  half  awake,  while  conscious- 
ness begins  to  return,  after  a  sound  night's 
rest  in  a  new  place  which  we  are  glad  to 
be  in,  following  upon  a  day  of  unwonted 
excitement  and  exertion.  There  are  few  pleasanter  pieces 
of  life.  The  worst  of  it  is  that  they  last  such  a  short  time ; 
for,  nurse  them  as  you  will,  by  lying  perfectly  passive  in 
mind  and  body,  you  can't  make  more  than  five  minutes  or 
so  of  them.  After  which  time,  the  stupid,  obtrusive,  wakeful 
entity  which  we  call  'I,'  as  impatient  as  he  is  stiff-necked, 
spite  of  our  teeth  will  force  himself  back  again,  and  take 
possession  of  us  down  to  our  very  toes. 

[^54] 


LIE-IN-BED    MORNING 

It .  was  in  this  state  that  Master  Tom  lay  at  half-past 
seven  on  the  morning  following  the  day  of  his  arrival,  and 
from  his  clean  little  white  bed  watched  the  movements  of 
Bogle  (the  generic  name  by  which  the  successive  shoeblacks 
of  the  School-house  were  known),  as  he  marched  round 
from  bed  to  bed,  collecting  the  dirty  shoes  and  boots,  and 
depositing  clean  ones  in  their  places. 

There  he  lay,  half-doubtful  as  to  w^here  exactly  in  the 
universe  he  was,  but  conscious  that  he  had  made  a  step  in 
life  which  he  had  been  anxious  to  make.  It  was  only  just 
light  as  he  looked  lazily  out  of  the  wide  windows,  and  saw 
the  tops  of  the  great  elms,  and  the  rooks  circling  about, 
and  cawing  remonstrances  to  the  lazy  ones  of  their  com- 
monwealth, before  starting  in  a  body  for  the  neighbouring 
ploughed  fields.  The  noise  of  the  room-door  closing  behind 
Bogle,  as  he  made  his  exit  with  the  shoe-basket  under  his 
arm,  roused  him  thoroughly,  and  he  sat  up  in  bed  and 
looked  round  the  room.  What  in  the  world  could  be  the 
matter  with  his  shoulders  and  loins .''  He  felt  as  if  he  had 
been  severely  beaten  all  down  his  back,  the  natural  results 
of  his  performance  at  his  first  match.  He  drew  up  his 
knees  and  rested  his  chin  on  them,  and  went  over  all  the 
events  of  yesterday,  rejoicing  in  his  new  life,  what  he  had 
seen  of  it,  and  all  that  was  to  come. 

Presently  one  or  two  of  the  other  boys  roused  them- 
selves, and  began  to  sit  up  and  talk  to  one  another  in 
low  tones.  Then  East,  after  a  roll  or  two,  came  to  an 
anchor  also,  and,  nodding  to  Tom,  began  examining  his 
ankle. 

'  What  a  pull,'  said  he,  '  that  it 's  lie-in-bed,  for  I  shall 
be  as  lame  as  a  tree,  I  think.' 

[155] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

It  was  Sunday  morning,  and  Sunday  lectures  had  not 
yet  been  established ;  so  that  nothing  but  breakfast  inter- 
vened between  bed  and  eleven  o'clock  chapel  —  a  gap  by 
no  means  easy  to  fill  up  :  in  fact,  though  received  with  the 
correct  amount  of  grumbling,  the  first  lecture  instituted 
by  the  Doctor  shortly  afterwards  was  a  great  boon  to  the 
School.  It  was  lie-in-bed,  and  no  one  was  in  a  hurry  to  get 
up,  especially  in  rooms  where,  the  sixth-form  boy  was  a 
good-tempered  fellow,  as  was  the  case  in  Tom's  room,  and 
allowed  the  small  boys  to  talk  and  laugh,  and  do  pretty 
much  what  they  pleased,  so  long  as  they  did  n't  disturb 
him.  His  bed  was  a  bigger  one  than  the  rest,  standing  in 
the  corner  by  the  fire-place,  with  washing-stand  and  large 
basin  by  the  side,  where  he  lay  in  state,  with  his  white  cur- 
tains tucked  in  so  as  to  form  a  retiring  place  :  an  awful 
subject  of  contemplation  to  Tom,  who  slept  nearly  opposite, 
and  watched  the  great  man  rouse  himself  and  take  a  book 
from  under  his  pillow,  and  begin  reading,  leaning  his  head 
on  his  hand,  and  turning  his  back  to  the  room.  Soon, 
however,  a  noise  of  striving  urchins  arose,  and  muttered 
encouragements  from  the  neighbouring  boys  of  — '  Go  it, 
Tadpole  ! '  *  Now,  young  Green  ! '  '  Haul  away  his  blanket ! ' 
*  Slipper  him  on  the  hands  !  '  Young  Green  and  little  Hall, 
commonly  called  Tadpole,  from  his  great  black  head  and 
thin  legs,  slept  side  by  side  far  away  by  the  door,  and  were 
for  ever  playing  one  another  tricks,  which  usually  ended,  as 
on  this  morning,  in  open  and  violent  collision  :  and  now, 
unmindful  of  all  order  and  authority,  there  they  were,  each 
hauling  away  at  the  other's  bedclothes  with  one  hand,  and 
with  the  other,  armed  with  a  slipper,  belabouring  whatever 
portion  of  the  body  of  his  adversary  came  within  reach. 

[156] 


WHOSE    TURN    FOR    HOT  WATER? 


'Hold  that  noise,  up  in  the  corner,'  called  out  the  prae- 
postor, sitting  up  and  looking  round  his  curtains  ;  and  the 
Tadpole  and  young  Green  sank  down  into  their  disordered 
beds,  and  then,  looking  at  his  watch,  added,  '  Hullo,  past 
eight !  —  whose  turn 
for  hot  water  ? ' 

(Where  the  prae- 
postor was  particular 
in  his  ablutions  the 
fags  in  his  room  had 
to  descend  in  turn  to 
the  kitchen,  and  beg 
or  steal  hot  water  for 
him  ;  and  often  the 
custom  extended  fur- 
ther, and  two  boys 
went  down  every 
morning  to  get  a 
supply  for  the  whole 
room.) 

'  East's  and  Tad- 
pole's,' answered  the 
senior  fag,  who  kept 
the  rota. 

'  I  can't  go,'  said 
East;  'I'm  dead  lame.' 

'Well,  be  quick,  some  of  you,  that's  all,'  said  the  great 
man,  as  he  turned  out  of  bed,  and  putting  on  his  slippers, 
went  out  into  the  great  passage  which  runs  the  whole 
length  of  the  bedrooms,  to  get  his  Sunday  habiliments  out 
of  his  portmanteau. 

[157] 


LOOKING  FROM  THE  HALL  TO 

THE  OLD  JAM   HOLE  AT  THE 

PRESENT  DAY 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

'Let  me  go  for  you,'  said  Tom  to  East,  'I  should 
like  it.' 

'  Well,  thank  'ee,  that 's  a  good  fellow.  Just  pull  on  your 
trousers,  and  take  your  jug  and  mine.  Tadpole  will  show 
you  the  way.' 

And  so  Tom  and  the  Tadpole,  in  nightshirts  and  trousers, 
started  off  downstairs,  and  through  '  Thos's  hole,'  as  the 
little  buttery,  where  candles  and  beer  and  bread  and  cheese 
were  served  out  at  night,  was  called  ;  across  the  School- 
house  court,  down  a  long  passage,  and  into  the  kitchen  ; 
where,  after  some  parley  with  the  stalwart,  handsome  cook, 
who  declared  that  she  had  filled  a  dozen  jugs  already,  they 
got  their  hot  water,  and  returned  with  all  speed  and  great 
caution.  As  it  was,  they  narrowly  escaped  capture  by  some 
privateers  from  the  fifth-form  rooms,  who  were  on  the  look- 
out for  the  hot-water  convoys,  and  pursued  them  up  to  the 
very  door  of  their  room,  making  them  spill  half  their  load 
in  the  passage.  'Better  than  going  down  again  tho','  as 
Tadpole  remarked,  '  as  we  should  have  had  to  do  if  those 
beggars  had  caught  us.' 

By  the  time  that  the  calling-over  bell  rang,  Tom  and  his 
new  comrades  were  all  down,  dressed  in  their  best  clothes, 
and  he  had  the  satisfaction  of  answering  '  here '  to  his 
name  for  the  first  time,  the  praepostor  of  the  week  having 
put  it  in  at  the  bottom  of  his  list.  And  then  came  break- 
fast, and  a  saunter  about  the  close  and  town  with  East, 
whose  lameness  only  became  severe  when  any  fagging 
had  to  be  done.  And  so  they  whiled  away  the  time  until 
morning  chapel. 

It  was  a  fine  November  morning,  and  the  close  soon 
became  alive  with  boys  of  all  ages,  who  sauntered  about  on 

[158] 


'SO.ME    PARLEY    WITH    THK   STALWART,    HANDSOME    COOK' 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

the  grass,  or  walked  round  the  gravel  walk,  in  parties  of 
two  or  three.  East,  still  doing  the  cicerone,  pointed  out  all 
the  remarkable  characters  to  Tom  as  they  passed :  Osbert, 
who  could  throw  a  cricket-ball  from  the  little-side  ground 
over  the  rook  trees  to  the  Doctor's  wall ;  Gray,  who  had 
got  the  Balliol  scholarship,  and,  what  East  evidently  thought 
of  much  more  importance,  a  half-holiday  for  the  School  by 
his  success ;  Thorne,  who  had  run  ten  miles  in  two  minutes 
over  the  hour ;  Black,  who  had  held  his  own  against  the 
cock  of  the  town  in  the  last  row  with  the  louts  ;  and  many 
more  heroes,  who  then  and  there  walked  about  and  were 
worshipped,  all  trace  of  whom  has  long  since  vanished 
from  the  scene  of  their  fame ;  and  the  fourth-form  boy 
who  reads  their  names  rudely  cut  out  on  the  old  hall  tables, 
or  painted  upon  the  big  side-cupboard  (if  hall  tables  and 
big  side-cupboards  still  exist),  wonders  what  manner  of  boys 
they  were.  It  will  be  the  same  with  you  who  wonder,  my 
sons,  whatever  your  prowess  may  be,  in  cricket,  or  scholar- 
ship, or  football.  Two  or  three  years,  more  or  less,  and  then 
the  steadily  advancing,  blessed  wave  will  pass  over  your 
names  as  it  has  passed  over  ours.  Nevertheless,  play  your 
games  and  do  your  work  manfully  —  see  only  that  that  be 
done,  and  let  the  remembrance  of  it  take  care  of  itself. 

The  chapel-bell  began  to  ring  at  a  quarter  to  eleven, 
and  Tom  got  in  early  and  took  his  place  in  the  lowest  row, 
and  watched  all  the  other  boys  come  in  and  take  their 
places,  filling  row  after  row  ;  and  tried  to  construe  the 
Greek  text  which  was  inscribed  over  the  door  with  the 
slightest  possible  success,  and  wondered  which  of  the  mas- 
ters, who  walked  down  the  chapel  and  took  their  seats  in 
the  exalted  boxes  at  the  end,  would  be  his  lord.    And  then 

[i6o] 


MORNING    CHAPEL 

came  the  closing  of  the  doors,  and  the  Doctor  in  his  robes 
and  the  service,  which,  however,  did  n't  impress  him  much, 
for  his  feehng  of  wonder  and  curiosity  was  too  strong. 
And  the  boy  on  one  side  of  him  was  scratching  his  name  on 
the  oak  panelling  in  front,  and  he  couldn't  help  watching 


\ 


vi,- 


THE   CLOISTERS 


\ 


^- 


to  see  what  the  name  was,  and  whether  it  was  well 
scratched  :  and  the  boy  on  the  other  side  went  to  sleep 
and  kept  falling  against  him  ;  and  on  the  whole,  though 
many  boys  even  in  that  part  of  the  School  were  serious 
and  attentive,  the  general  atmosphere  was  by  no  means 
devotional  ;  and  when  he  got  out  into  the  close  again  he 
did  n't  feel  at  all  comfortable,  or  as  if  he  had  been  to  church. 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

But  at  afternoon  chapel  it  was  quite  another  thing.  He 
had  spent  the  time  after  dinner  in  writing  home  to  his 
mother,  and  so  was  in  a  better  frame  of  mind  ;  and  his 
first  curiosity  was  over,  and  he  could  attend  more  to  the 
service.  As  the  hymn  after  the  prayers  was  being  sung, 
and  the  chapel  was  getting  a  little  dark,  he  was  beginning 
to  feel  that  he  had  been  really  worshipping.  And  then 
came  that  great  event  in  his,  as  in  every  Rugby  boy's  life 
of  that  day  —  the  first  sermon  from  the  Doctor. 

More  worthy  pens  than  mine  have  described  that  scene. 
The  oak  pulpit  standing  out  by  itself  above  the  School 
seats.  The  tall  gallant  form,  the  kindling  eye,  the  voice, 
now  soft  as  the  low  notes  of  a  flute,  now  clear  and  stirring 
as  the  call  of  the  light  infantry  bugle,  of  him  who  stood 
there  Sunday  after  Sunday,  witnessing  and  pleading  for  his 
Lord,  the  King  of  righteousness  and  love  and  glory,  with 
whose  spirit  he  was  filled,  and  in  whose  power  he  spoke. 
The  long  lines  of  young  faces,  rising  tier  above  tier  down 
the  whole  length  of  the  chapel,  from  the  little  bo/s  who 
had  just  left  his  mother  to  the  young  man's  who  was  going 
out  next  week  into  the  great  world  rejoicing  in  his  strength. 
It  was  a  great  and  solemn  sight,  and  never  more  so  than 
at  this  time  of  year,  when  the  only  lights  in  the  chapel 
were  in  the  pulpit  and  at  the  seats  of  the  praepostors  of 
the  w'eek,  and  the  soft  twilight  stole  over  the  rest  of  the 
chapel,  deepening  into  darkness  in  the  high  gallery  behind 
the  organ. 

But  what  was  it  after  all  which  seized  and  held  these 
three  hundred  boys,  dragging  them  out  of  themselves,  will- 
ing or  unwilling,  for  twenty  minutes,  on  Sunday  afternoons  ? 
True,  there  always  were  boys  scattered  up  and   down  the 

[162] 


THE    SERMON 

School,  who  in  heart  and  head  were  worthy  to  hear  and 
able  to  carry  away  the  deepest  and  wisest  words  there 
spoken.  But  these  were  a  minority  always,  generally  a  very 
small  one,  often  so  small  a  one  as  to  be  countable  on  the 
fingers  of  your  hand.  What  was  it  that  moved  and  held 
us,  the  rest  of  the  three  hundred  reckless,  childish  boys, 
who  feared  the  Doctor  with  all  our  hearts,  and  very  little 
besides  in  heaven  or  earth  :  who  thought  mere  of  our  sets 
in  the  School  than  of  the  Church  of  Christ,  and  put  the 
traditions  of  Rugby  and  the  public  opinion  of  boys  in  our 
daily  life  above  the  laws  of  God  ?  We  could  n't  enter  into 
half  that  we  heard  ;  we  had  n't  the  knowledge  of  our  own 
hearts  or  the  knowledge  of  one  another ;  and  little  enough 
of  the  faith,  hope,  and  love  needed  to  that  end.  But  we 
listened,  as  all  boys  in  their  better  moods  will  listen  (aye, 
and  men  too  for  the  matter  of  that),  to  a  man  whom  we 
felt  to  be,  with  all  his  heart  and  soul  and  strength,  striving 
against  whatever  was  mean  and  unmanly  and  unrighteous 
in  our  little  world.  It  was  not  the  cold  clear  voice  of  one 
giving  advice  and  warning  from  serene  heights  to  those 
who  were  struggling  and  sinning  below,  but  the  warm  living 
voice  of  one  who  was  fighting  for  us  and  by  our  sides,  and 
calling  on  us  to  help  him  and  ourselves  and  one  another. 
And  so,  wearily  and  little  by  little,  but  surely  and  steadily 
on  the  whole,  was  brought  home  to  the  young  boy,  for  the 
first  time,  the  meaning  of  his  life  :  that  it  was  no  fool's  or 
sluggard's  paradise  into  which  he  had  wandered  by  chance, 
but  a  battle-field  ordained  from  of  old,  where  there  are  no 
spectators,  but  the  youngest  must  take  his  side,  and  the 
stakes  are  life  and  death.  And  he  who  roused  this  con- 
sciousness in  them,  showed  them  at  the  same  time,  by  every 

[163] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

word  he  spoke  in  the  pulpit,  and  by  his  whole  daily  life, 
how  that  battle  was  to  be  fought ;  and  stood  there  before 
them  their  fellow-soldier  and  the  captain  of  their  band. 
The  true  sort  of  captain,  too,  for  a  boys'  army,  one  who 
had  no  misgivings,  and  gave  no  uncertain  word  of  com- 
mand, and,  let  who  would  yield  or  make  truce,  would  fight 
the  fight  out  {so  every  boy  felt)  to  the  last  gasp  and  the 
last  drop  of  blood.  Other  sides  of  his  character  might  take 
hold  of  and  influence  boys  here  and  there,  but  it  was  this 
thoroughness  and  undaunted  courage  which  more  than  any- 
thing else  won  his  way  to  the  hearts  of  the  great  mass  of 
those  on  whom  he  left  his  mark,  and  made  them  believe 
first  in  him,  and  then  in  his  Master, 

It  was  this  quality  above  all  others  which  moved  such 
boys  as  our  hero,  who  had  nothing  whatever  remarkable 
about  him  except  excess  of  boyishness  ;  by  which  I  mean 
animal  life  in  its  fullest  measure,  good  nature  and  honest 
impulses,  hatred  of  injustice  and  meanness,  and  thoughtless- 
ness enough  to  sink  a  three-decker.  And  so,  during  the 
next  two  years,  in  which  it  was  more  than  doubtful  whether 
he  would  get  good  or  evil  from  the  School,  and  before  any 
steady  purpose  or  principle  grew  up  in  him,  whatever  his 
week's  sins  and  shortcomings  might  have  been,  he  hardly 
ever  left  the  chapel  on  Sunday  evenings  without  a  serious 
resolve  to  stand  by  and  follow  the  Doctor,  and  a  feeling 
that  it  was  only  cowardice  (the  incarnation  of  all  other  sins 
in  such  a  boy's  mind)  which  hindered  him  from  doing  so 
with  all  his  heart. 

The  next  day  Tom  was  duly  placed  in  the  third  form, 
and  began  his  lessons  in  a  corner  of  the  big  School,  He 
found  the  work  very  easy,  as  he  had  been  well  grounded 

[164] 


FAGGING 

and  knew  his  grammar  by  heart ;  and,  as  he  had  no  inti- 
mate companion  to  make  him  idle  (East  and  his  other 
School-house  friends  being  in  the  lower-fourth,  the  form 
above  him),  soon  gained  golden  opinions  from  his  master, 
who  said  he  was  placed  too  low,  and  should  be  put  out  at 
the  end  of  the  half-year.  So  all  went  well  with  him  in 
school,  and  he  wrote  the  most  flourishing  letters  home  to 
his  mother,  full  of  his  own  success,  and  the  unspeakable 
delights  of  a  public  school. 

In  the  house,  too,  all  went  well.  The  end  of  the  half- 
year  was  drawing  near,  which  kept  everybody  in  a  good 
humour,  and  the  house  was  ruled  well  and  strongly  by 
Warner  and  Brooke.  True,  the  general  system  was  rough 
and  hard,  and  there  was  bullying  in  nooks  and  corners, 
bad  signs  for  the  future  ;  but  it  never  got  further,  or  dared 
show  itself  openly,  stalking  about  the  passages  and  hall 
and  bedrooms,  and  making  the  life  of  the  small  boys  a 
continual  fear. 

Tom,  as  a  new  boy,  was  of  right  excused  fagging  for 
the  first  month,  but  in  his  enthusiasm  for  his  new  life  this 
privilege  hardly  pleased  him  ;  and  East  and  others  of  his 
young  friends  discovering  this,  kindly  allowed  him  to  in- 
dulge his  fancy,  and  take  their  turns  at  night  fagging  and 
cleaning  studies.  These  were  the  principal  duties  of  the 
fags  in  the  house.  From  supper  until  nine  o'clock,  three 
fags  taken  in  order  stood  in  the  passages,  and  answered 
any  praepostor  who  called  '  Fag,'  racing  to  the  door,  the 
last  comer  having  to  do  the  work.  This  consisted  generally 
of  going  to  the  buttery  for  beer  and  bread  and  cheese 
(for  the  great  men  did  not  sup  with  the  rest,  but  had  each 
his   own   allowance   in   his   study   or  the   fifth-form   room), 

[165] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

cleaning  candlesticks  and  putting  in  new  candles,  toasting 
cheese,  bottling  beer,  and  carrying  messages  about  the 
house ;  and  Tom,  in  the  first  blush  of  his  hero-worship, 
felt  it  a  high  privilege  to  receive  orders  from,  and  be  the 
bearer  of  the  supper  of  old  Brooke.  And  besides  this 
night-work,  each  praepostor  had  three  or  four  fags  specially 
allotted  to  him,  of  whom  he  was  supposed  to  be  the  guide, 
philosopher,  and  friend,  and  who  in  return  for  these  good 
offices  had  to  clean  out  his  study  every  morning  by  turns, 
directly  after  first  lesson  and  before  he  returned  from 
breakfast.  And  the  pleasure  of  seeing  the  great  men's 
studies,  and  looking  at  their  pictures,  and  peeping  into 
their  books,  made  Tom  a  ready  substitute  for  any  boy  who 
was  too  lazy  to  do  his  own  work.  And  so  he  soon  gained 
the  character  of  a  good-natured  willing  fellow,  who  was 
ready  to  do  a  turn  for  any  one. 

In  all  the  games  too  he  joined  with  all  his  heart,  and 
soon  became  well  versed  in  all  the  mysteries  of  football, 
by  continued  practice  at  the  School-house  little-side,  which 
played  daily. 

The  only  incident  worth  recording  here,  however,  was 
his  first  run  at  Hare-and-hounds.  On  the  last  Tuesday  but 
one  of  the  half-year,  he  was  passing  through  the  hall  after 
dinner,  when  he  was  hailed  with  shouts  from  Tadpole  and 
several  other  fags  seated  at  one  of  the  long  tables,  the 
chorus  of  which  was,   '  Come  and   help  us  tear  up  scent.' 

Tom  approached  the  table  in  obedience  to  the  mysteri- 
ous summons,  always  ready  to  help,  and  found  the  party 
engaged  in  tearing  up  old  newspapers,  copy-books,  and 
magazines,  into  small  pieces,  with  which  they  were  filling 
four  large  canvas  bags. 

[i66] 


'THE   PLEASURE  OF  SEEING  THE   GREAT   MEN'S  STUDIES 
...AND    PEEPING    INTO   THEIR    BOOKS' 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

*  It 's  the  turn  of  our  house  to  find  scent  for  big-side 
Hare-and-hounds,'  exclaimed  Tadpole  ;  '  tear  away,  there  's 
no  time  to  lose  before  calling-over.' 

'I  think  it's  a  great  shame,'  said  another  small  boy,  'to 
have  such  a  hard  run  for  the  last  day.' 

'  Which  run  is  it  ? '  said  Tadpole. 

'Oh,  the  Barby  run,  I  hear,'  answered  the  other;  'nine 
miles  at  least,  and  hard  ground  ;  no  chance  of  getting  in 
at  the  finish,  unless  you  're  a  first-rate  scud.' 

'Well,  I'm  going  to  have  a  try,'  said  Tadpole;  'it's  the 
last  run  of  the  half,  and  if  a  fellow  gets  in  at  the  end,  big- 
side  stands  ale  and  bread  and  cheese,  and  a  bowl  of  punch ; 
and  the  Cock  's  such  a  famous  place  for  ale.' 

'  I  should  like  to  try  too,'  said  Tom. 

'Well,  then,  leave  your  waistcoat  behind,  and  listen  at 
the  door,  after  calling-over,  and  you  '11  hear  where  the 
meet  is.' 

After  calling-over,  sure  enough,  there  were  two  boys  at 
the  door,  calling  out,  '  Big-side  Hare-and-hounds  meet  at 
White  Hall '  ;  and  Tom,  having  girded  himself  with  leather 
strap,  and  left  all  superfluous  clothing  behind,  set  off  for 
White  Hall,  an  old  gable-ended  house  some  quarter  of  a 
mile  from  the  town,  with  East,  whom  he  had  persuaded  to 
join,  notwithstanding  his  prophecy  that  they  could  never 
get  in,  as  it  was  the  hardest  run  of  the  year. 

At  the  meet  they  found  some  forty  or  fifty  boys,  and 
Tom  felt  sure,  from  having  seen  many  of  them  run  at  foot- 
ball, that  he  and  East  were  more  likely  to  get  in  than  they. 

After  a  few  minutes'  waiting,  two  well-known  runners, 
chosen  for  the  hares,  buckled  on  the  four  bags  filled  with 
scent,  compared  their  watches  with  those  of  young  Brooke 

[i68] 


HARE-AND-HOUNDS 

and  Thorne,  and  started  off  at  a  long  slinging  trot  across 
the  fields  in  the  direction  of  Barby, 

Then  the  hounds  clustered  round  Thorne,  who  explained 
shortly,  '  They  're  to  have  six  minutes'  law.  We  run  into 
the  Cock,  and  every  one  who  comes  in  within  a  quarter  of 
an  hour  of  the  hares  '11  be  counted,  if  he  has  been  round 
Barby  church.'  Then  came  a  minute's  pause  or  so,  and 
then  the  watches  are  pocketed,  and  the  pack  is  led  through 
the  gateway  into  the  field  which  the  hares  had  first  crossed. 
Here  they  break  into  a  trot,  scattering  over  the  field  to  find 
the  first  traces  of  the  scent  which  the  hares  throw  out  as 
they  go  along.  The  old  hounds  make  straight  for  the  likely 
points,  and  in  a  minute  a  cry  of  '  forward  '  comes  from  one 
of  them,  and  the  whole  pack,  quickening  their  pace,  make 
for  the  spot,  while  the  boy  who  hit  the  scent  first,  and  the 
two  or  three  nearest  to  him,  are  over  the  first  fence,  and  mak- 
ing play  along  the  hedgerow  in  the  long  grass-field  beyond. 
The  rest  of  the  pack  rush  at  the  gap  already  made,  and 
scramble  through.  Jostling  one  another.  '  Forward '  again, 
before  they  are  half  through  ;  the  pace  quickens  into  a  sharp 
run,  the  tail  hounds  all  straining  to  get  up  with  the  lucky 
leaders.  They  are  gallant  hares,  and  the  scent  lies  thick 
right  across  another  meadow  and  into  a  ploughed  field,  where 
the  pace  begins  to  tell ;  tlien  over  a  good  wattle  with  a  ditch 
on  the  other  side,  and  down  a  large  pasture  studded  with 
old  thorns,  which  slopes  down  to  the  first  brook  ;  the  great 
Leicestershire  sheep  charge  away  across  the  field  as  the 
pack  comes  racing  down  the  slope.  The  brook  is  a  small 
one,  and  the  scent  lies  right  ahead  up  the  opposite  slope, 
and  as  thick  as  ever ;  not  a  turn  or  a  check  to  favour 
the  tail  hounds,  who  strain  on,  now  trailing  in  a  long  line, 

[169] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

many  a  youngster  beginning  to  drag  his  legs  heavily,  and 
feel  his  heart  beat  like  a  hammer,  and  the  bad-plucked  ones 
thinking  that  after  all  it  is  n't  worth  while  to  keep  it  up, 

Tom,  East,  and  the  Tadpole  had  a  good  start,  and  are 
well  up  for  such  young  hands,  and  after  rising  the  slope 
and  crossing  the  next  field,  find  themselves  up  with  the 
leading  hounds,  who  have  overrun  the  scent  and  are  trying 
back  ;  they  have  come  a  mile  and  a  half  in  about  eleven 
minutes,  a  pace  which  shows  that  it  is  the  last  day.  About 
twenty-five  of  the  original  starters  only  show  here,  the  rest 
having  already  given  in  ;  the  leaders  are  busy  making  casts 
into  the  fields  on  the  left  and  right,  and  the  others  get  their 
second  winds. 

Then  comes  the  cr)'  of  '  forward '  again,  from  young 
Brooke,  from  the  extreme  left,  and  the  pack  settles  down 
to  work  again  steadily  and  doggedly,  the  whole  keeping 
pretty  well  together.  The  scent,  though  still  good,  is  not 
so  thick ;  there  is  no  need  of  that,  for  in  this  part  of  the 
run  every  one  knows  the  line  which  must  be  taken,  and  so 
there  are  no  casts  to  be  made,  but  good  downright  running 
and  fencing  to  be  done.  All  who  are  now  up  mean  coming 
in,  and  they  come  to  the  foot  of  Barby  Hill  without  losing 
more  than  two  or  three  more  of  the  pack.  This  last  straight 
two  miles  and  a  half  is  always  a  vantage  ground  for  the 
hounds,  and  the  hares  know  it  well ;  they  are  generally 
viewed  on  the  side  of  Barby  Hill,  and  all  eyes  are  on  the 
look-out  for  them  to-day.  But  not  a  sign  of  them  appears, 
so  now  will  be  the  hard  work  for  the  hounds,  and  there  is 
nothing  for  it  but  to  cast  about  for  the  scent,  for  it  is  now 
the  hares'  turn,  and  they  may  baffle  the  pack  dreadfully  in 
the  next  two  miles. 

[170] 


CASTING   ABOUT    FOR    THE    SCENT 


'DOWN    A    LARGE    PASTURE    STUDDED   WITH    OLD   THORNS' 

111  fares  it  now  with  our  youngsters  that  they  are  School- 
house  boys,  and  so  follow  young  Brooke,  for  he  takes  the 
wide  casts  round  to  the  left,  conscious  of  his  own  powers, 
and  loving  the  hard  work.     For  if  you  would  consider  for  a 

[i7x] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

moment,  }'0U  small  boys,  you  would  remember  that  the  Cock, 
where  the  run  ends,  and  the  good  ale  will  be  going,  lies 
far  out  to  the  right  on  the  Dunchurch  road,  so  that  every 
cast  you  take  to  the  left  is  so  much  extra  work.  And  at 
this  stage  of  the  run,  when  the  evening  is  closing  in  already, 
no  one  remarks  whether  you  run  a  little  cunning  or  not,  so 
you  should  stick  to  those  crafty  hounds  who  keep  edging 
away  to  the  right,  and  not  follow  a  prodigal  like  young 
Brooke,  whose  legs  are  twice  as  long  as  yours  and  of  cast- 
iron,  wholly  indifferent  to  two  or  three  miles  more  or  less.. 
However,  they  struggle  after  him,  sobbing  and  plunging 
along,  Tom  and  East  pretty  close,  and  Tadpole,  whose  big 
head  begins  to  pull  him  down,  some  thirty  yards  behind. 

Now  comes  a  brook,  with  stiff  clay  banks,  from  which 
they  can  hardly  drag  their  legs,  and  they  hear  faint  cries  for 
help  from  the  wretched  Tadpole,  who  has  fairly  stuck  fast. 
But  they  have  too  little  run  left  in  themselves  to  pull  up 
for  their  own  brothers.  Three  fields  more,  and  another 
check,  and  then  '  forward  '  called  away  to  the  extreme  right. 

The  two  boys'  souls  die  within  them  ;  they  can  never 
do  it.  Young  Brooke  thinks  so  too,  and  says  kindly,  '  You  '11 
cross  a  lane  after  next  field,  keep  down  it,  and  you  '11  hit 
the  Dunchurch  road  below  the  Cock,'  and  then  steams 
away  for  the  run  in,  in  which  he  's  sure  to  be  first,  as  if  he 
were  just  starting.  They  struggle  on  across  the  next  field, 
the  '  forwards '  getting  fainter  and  fainter,  and  then  ceasing. 
The  whole  hunt  is  out  of  earshot,  and  all  hope  of  coming 
in  is  over. 

*  Hang  it  all ! '  broke  out  East,  as  soon  as  he  had  got 
wind  enough,  pulling  off  his  hat  and  mopping  at  his  face, 
all  spattered  with  dirt  and  lined  with  sweat,  from  which  went 

[172] 


NO    GO 

up  a  thick  steam  into  the  still  cold  air.  '  I  told  you  how  it 
would  be.  What  a  thick  I  was  to  come  !  Here  we  are, 
dead-beat,  and  yet  I  know  we  're  close  to  the  run  in,  if 
we   knew   the    country.' 

'Well,'  said  Tom,  mopping  away,  and  gulping  down  his 
disappointment,  '  it  can't  be  helped.  We  did  our  best, 
anyhow.  Had  n't  we  better  find  this  lane,  and  go  down 
it  as  young  Brooke  told  us  ? ' 

'I  suppose  so  —  nothing  else  for  it,'  grunted  East.  'If 
ever  I  go  out  last  day  again,'  growl  —  growl  —  growl. 

So  they  tried  back  slowly  and  sorrowfully,  and  found 
the  lane,  and  went  limping  down  it,  plashing  in  the  cold 
puddly  ruts,  and  beginning  to  feel  how  the  run  had  taken 
it  out  of  them.  The  evening  closed  in  fast,  and  clouded 
over,  dark,  cold,  and  dreary. 

'I  say,  it  must  be  locking-up,  I  should  think,'  remarked 
East,  breaking  the  silence  ;   '  it 's  so  dark.' 

'  What  if  we  're  late  .-' '  said  Tom. 

'No  tea,  and  sent  up  to  the  Doctor,'  answered  East. 

The  thought  did  n't  add  to  their  cheerfulness.  Presently 
a  faint  halloo  was  heard  from  an  adjoining  field.  They 
answered  it  and  stopped,  hoping  for  some  competent  rustic 
to  guide  them,  when  over  a  gate  some  twenty  yards  ahead 
crawled  the  wretched  Tadpole,  in  a  state  of  collapse  ;  he 
had  lost  a  shoe  in  the  brook,  and  been  groping  after  it  up 
to  his  elbows  in  the  stiff  wet  clay,  and  a  more  miserable 
creature  in  the  shape  of  boy  seldom  has  been  seen. 

The  sight  of  him,  notwithstanding,  cheered  them,  for 
he  was  some  degrees  more  wretched  than  they.  They  also 
cheered  him,  as  he  was  now  no  longer  under  the  dread  of 
passing  his  night  alone  in  the  fields.     And  so,   in  better 

[173] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

heart,  the  three  plashed  painfully  down  the  never-ending 
lane.  At  last  it  widened,  just  as  utter  darkness  set  in,  and 
they  came  out  on  to  a  turnpike-road,  and  there  paused 
bewildered,  for  they  had  lost  all  bearings,  and  knew  not 
whether  to   turn   to   the   right   or   left. 

Luckily  for  them  they  had  not  to  decide,  for  lumbering 
along  the  road,  with  one  lamp  lighted,  and  two  spavined 
horses  in  the  shafts,  came  a  heavy  coach,  which  after  a 
moment's  suspense  they  recognized  as  the  Oxford  coach, 
the  redoubtable  Pig  and  Whistle. 

It  lumbered  slowly  up,  and  the  boys  mustering  their  last 
run,  caught  it  as  it  passed,  and  began  scrambling  up  behind, 
in  which  exploit  East  missed  his  footing  and  fell  flat  on  his 
nose  along  the  road.  Then  the  others  hailed  the  old  scare- 
crow of  a  coachman,  who  pulled  up  and  agreed  to  take 
them  in  for  a  shilling ;  so  there  they  sat  on  the  back  seat, 
drubbing  with  their  heels,  and  their  teeth  chattering  with  cold, 
and  jogged  into  Rugby  some  forty  minutes  after  locking-up. 

Five  minutes  afterwards,  three  small  limping  shivering 
figures  steal  along  through  the  Doctor's  garden,  and  into 
the  house  by  the  servants'  entrance  (all  the  other  gates 
have  been  closed  long  since),  where  the  first  thing  they 
light  upon  in  the  passage  is  old  Thomas,  ambling  along, 
candle  in  one  hand  and  keys  in  the  other. 

He  stops  and  examines  their  condition  with  a  grim 
smile.  '  Ah  !  East,  Hall,  and  Brown,  late  for  locking-up. 
Must  go  up  to  the  Doctor's  study  at  once.' 

'  Well  but,  Thomas,  may  n't  we  go  and  wash  first .-'  You 
can  put  down  the  time,  you  know.' 

'  Doctor's  study  d'rectly  you  come  in  —  that 's  the  orders,' 
replied  old  Thomas,  motioning  towards  the  stairs  at  the  end 

[174] 


'THREE   SMALL    LIMPING    SHIVERING    FIGURES' 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

of  the  passage  which  led  up  into  the  Doctor's  house ;  and 
the  boys  turned  ruefully  down  it,  not  cheered  by  the  old 
verger's  muttered  remark,  '  What  a  pickle  they  boys  be  in  ! ' 
Thomas  referred  to  their  faces  and  habiliments,  but  they 
construed  it  as  indicating  the  Doctor's  state  of  mind.  Upon 
the  short  flight  of  stairs  they  paused  to  hold  counsel. 

'  Who  '11  go  in  first  ?  '  inquires  Tadpole. 

'You  —  you're  the  senior,'  answered  East. 

'Catch  me  —  look  at  the  state  I'm  in,'  rejoined  Hall, 
showing  the  arms  of  his  jacket.    '  I  must  get  behind  you  two.' 

'Well,  but  look  at  me,'  said  East,  indicating  the  mass  of 
clay  behind  which  he  was  standing;  'I'm  worse  than  you, 
two  to  one  ;  you  might  grow  cabbages  on  my  trousers.' 

'  That 's  all  down  below,  and  you  can  keep  your  legs 
behind   the  sofa,'   said   Hall. 

'Here,  Brown,  you're  the  show-figure  —  you  must  lead.' 

'But  my  face  is  all  muddy,'  argued  Tom. 

'  Oh,  we  're  all  in  one  boat  for  that  matter ;  but  come 
on,   we  're   only   making   it  worse,    dawdling   here.' 

'Well,  just  give  us  a  brush  then,'  said  Tom;  and  they 
began  trying  to  rub  off  the  superfluous  dirt  from  each  other's 
jackets,  but  it  was  not  dry  enough,  and  the  rubbing  made 
it  worse ;  so  in  despair  they  pushed  through  the  swing 
door  at  the  head  of  the  stairs,  and  found  themselves  in 
the  Doctor's  hall. 

'That 's  the  library  door,'  said  East  in  a  whisper,  pushing 
Tom  forwards.  The  sound  of  merry  voices  and  laughter 
came  from  within,  and  his  first  hesitating  knock  was 
unanswered.  But  at  the  second,  the  Doctor's  voice  said 
'  Come  in,'  and  Tom  turned  the  handle,  and  he,  with  the 
others  behind  him,  sidled  into  the  room. 

[176] 


THEIR    RECEPTION 

The  Doctor  looked  up  from  his  task  ;  he  was  working 
away  with  a  great  chisel  at  the  bottom  of  a  boy's  sailing- 
boat,  the  lines  of  which  he  was  no  doubt  fashioning  on 
the  model  of  one  of  Nicias'  galleys.  Round  him  stood 
three  or  four  children  ;  the  candles  burnt  brightly  on  a 
large  table  at  the  further  end,  covered  with  books  and 
papers,  and  a  great  fire  threw  a  ruddy  glow  over  the 
rest  of  the  room.  All  looked  so  kindly,  and  homely, 
and  comfortable,  that  the  boys  took  heart  in  a  moment, 
and  Tom  advanced  from  behind  the  shelter  of  the  great 
sofa.  The  Doctor  nodded  to  the  children,  who  went  out, 
casting  curious  and  amused  glances  at  the  three  young 
scarecrows. 

'Well,  my  little  fellows,'  began  the  Doctor,  drawing  him- 
self up  with  his  back  to  the  fire,  the  chisel  in  one  hand 
and  his  coat-tails  in  the  other,  and  his  eyes  twinkling  as  he 
looked  them  over ;  '  what  makes  you  so  late  ? ' 

'  Please,  sir,  we  've  been  out  big-side  Hare-and-hounds, 
and  lost  our  way.' 

'  Hah  !  you  could  n't  keep  up,  I  suppose  ? ' 

'Well,  sir,'  said  East,  stepping  out,  and  not  liking  that 
the  Doctor  should  think  lightly  of  his  running  powers, 
'we  got  round  Barby  all  right,  but  then — ' 

'  Why,  what  a  state  you  're  in,  my  boy  !  '  interrupted  the 
Doctor,  as  the  pitiful  condition  of  Eiast's  garments  was 
fully  revealed  to  him. 

'That's  the  fall  I  got,  sir,  in  the  road,'  said  East,  look- 
ing down  at  himself.    '  The  Old  Pig  came  by  — ' 

'  The  what  ? '  said  the  Doctor. 

'The  Oxford  coach,  sir,'  explained  Hall. 

'  Hah !  yes,  the  Regulator,'  said  the  Doctor. 

[177] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

'And  I  tumbled  on  my  face,  trying  to  get  up  behind,' 
went  on  East. 

'  You  're  not  hurt    I  hope  ? '  said  the  Doctor. 

*  Oh  no,  sir.' 

'Well  now,  run  upstairs,  all  three  of  you,  and  get  clean 
things  on,  and  then  tell  the  housekeeper  to  give  you  some 
tea.  You  're  too  young  to  try  such  long  runs.  Let  Warner 
know  I  've  seen  you.    Good-night.' 

*  Good-night,  sir.'  And  away  scuttled  the  three  boys  in 
high  glee. 

*  What  a  brick,  not  to  give  us  even  twenty  lines  to  learn  ! ' 
said  the  Tadpole,  as  they  reached  their  bedroom  ;  and  in 
half  an  hour  afterwards  they  were  sitting  by  the  fire  in  the 
housekeeper's  room  at  a  sumptuous  tea,  with  cold  meat, 
'  twice  as  good  a  grub  as  we  should  have  got  in  the  hall,' 
as  the  Tadpole  remarked  with  a  grin,  his  mouth  full  of 
buttered  toast.  All  their  grievances  were  forgotten,  and 
they  were  resolving  to  go  out  the  first  big-side  next  half, 
and  thinking  Hare-and-hounds  the  most  delightful  of  games. 

A  day  or  two  afterwards  the  great  passage  outside  the 
bedrooms  was  cleared  of  the  boxes  and  portmanteaus,  which 
went  down  to  be  packed  by  the  matron,  and  great  games 
of  chariot-racing,  and  cock-fighting,  and  bolstering,  went  on 
in  the  vacant  space,  the  sure  sign  of  a  closing  half-year. 

Then  came  the  making  up  of  parties  for  the  journey 
home,  and  Tom  joined  a  party  who  were  to  hire  a  coach, 
and  post  with  four  horses  to  Oxford. 

Then  the  last  Saturday  on  which  the  Doctor  came  round 
to  each  form  to  give  out  the  prizes,  and  hear  the  masters' 
last  reports  of  how  they  and  their  charges  had  been  con- 
ducting  themselves ;   and   Tom,  to   his   huge   delight,    was 

[178] 


'TWICE   AS   GOjOD   A   GRUB    AS    WE   SHOULD   HAVE   GOT 

IN   THE    HALL' 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

praised,  and  got  his  remove  into  the  lower-fourth,  in  which 
all  his  School-house  friends  were. 

On  the  next  Tuesday  morning,  at  four  o'clock,  hot  coffee 
was  going  on  in  the  housekeeper's  and  matron's  rooms ; 
boys  wrapped  in  great  coats  and  mufflers  were  swallowing 
hasty  mouthfuls,  rushing  about,  tumbling  over  luggage,  and 
asking  questions  all  at  once  of  the  matron ;  outside  the 
School  gates  were  drawn  up  several  chaises  and  the  four- 
horse  coach  which  Tom's  party  had  chartered,  the  postboys 
in  their  best  jackets  and  breeches,  and  a  cornopean  player, 
hired  for  the  occasion,  blowing  away  *  A  southerly  wind 
and  a  cloudy  sky,'  waking  all  peaceful  inhabitants  half-way 
down  the  High  Street. 

Every  minute  the  bustle  and  hubbub  increased,  porters 
staggered  about  with  boxes  and  bags,  the  cornopean  played 
louder.  Old  Thomas  sat  in  his  den  with  a  great  yellow  bag 
by  his  side,  out  of  which  he  was  paying  journey-money  to 
each  boy,  comparing  by  the  light  of  a  solitary  dip  the  dirty 
crabbed  little  list  in  his  own  handwriting,  with  the  Doctor's 
list,  and  the  amount  of  his  cash  ;  his  head  was  on  one  side, 
his  mouth  screwed  up,  and  his  spectacles  dim  from  early 
toil.  He  had  prudently  locked  the  door,  and  carried  on 
his  operations  solely  through  the  window,  or  he  would  have 
been  driven  wild,  and  lost  all  his  rrioney. 

'  Thomas,  do  be  quick,  we  shall  never  catch  the  High- 
flyer at  Dunchurch.' 

'  That 's  your  money,  all  right,  Green.' 

'  Hullo,  Thomas,  the  Doctor  said  I  was  to  have  two- 
pound-ten  ;  you  've  only  given  me  two  pound.' —  I  fear  that 
Master  Green  is  not  confining  himself  strictly  to  truth. — 
Thomas  turns  his  head  more  on  one  side  than  ever,  and 

[i8o] 


A    FINANCIER'S    TROUBLES 


^fl 


■w-jr^^  — •  ^ 


Mi  i  It  I 


6  6' 


.,y 


THE  HIGH  STREET  SKETCHED  FROM  THE  GREAT  GATES 

spells  away  at  the  dirty  list.  Green  is  forced  away  from 
the  window. 

'  Here,  Thomas,  never  mind  him,  mine  's  thirty  shillings.' 
'And  mine  too,'  'And  mine,'  shouted  others. 

One  way  or  another,  the  party  to  which  Tom  belonged 
all  got  packed  and  paid,  and  sallied  out  to  the  gates,  the 
cornopean  playing  frantically  'Drops  of  Brandy,'  in  allusion, 
probably,  to  the  slight  potations  in  which  the  musician  and 

[i8i] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

postboys  had  been  already  indulging.  All  luggage  was  care- 
fully  stowed  away  inside  the  coach  and  in  the  front  and 
hind  boots,  so  that  not  a  hat-box  was  visible  outside.  Five 
or  six  small  boys,  with  pea-shooters,  and  the  cornopean 
player,  got  up  behind  ;  in  front  the  big  boys,  mostly  smok- 
ing, not  for  pleasure,  but  because  they  are  now  gentlemen 
at  large  —  and  this  is  the  most  correct  public  method  of 
notifying  the  fact. 

*  Robinson's  coach  will  be  down  the  road  in  a  minute,  it 
has  gone  up  to  Bird's  to  pick  up,  —  we'll  wait  till  they're 
close,  and  make  a  race  of  it, '  says  the  leader,  '  Now,  boys, 
half-a-sovereign  apiece  if  you  beat  'em  into  Dunchurch  by 
one  hundred  yards.' 

'All  right,  sir,'  shouted  the  grinning  postboys. 

Down  comes  Robinson's  coach  in  a  minute  or  two,  with 
a  rival  cornopean,  and  away  go  the  two  vehicles,  horses 
galloping,  boys  cheering,  horns  playing  loud.  There  is  a 
special  Providence  over  schoolboys  as  well  as  sailors,  or 
they  must  have  upset  twenty  times  in  the  first  five  miles ; 
sometimes  actually  abreast  of  one  another,  and  the  boys  on 
the  roofs  exchanging  volleys  of  peas,  now  nearly  running 
over  a  postchaise  which  had  started  before  them,  now  half- 
way up  a  bank,  now  with  a  wheel  and  a  half  over  a  yawn- 
ing ditch  ;  and  all  this  in  a  dark  morning,  with  nothing 
but  their  own  lamps  to  guide  them.  However,  it 's  all  over 
at  last,  and  they  have  run  over  nothing  but  an  old  pig  in 
Southam  Street ;  the  last  peas  are  distributed  in  the  Corn 
Market  at  Oxford,  where  they  arrive  between  eleven  and 
twelve,  and  sit  down  to  a  sumptuous  breakfast  at  the  Angel, 
which  they  are  made  to  pay  for  accordingly.  Here  the 
party  breaks  up,  all   going  now  different  ways  ;   and  Tom 

[182] 


DULCE   DOMUM 

orders  out  a  chaise  and  pair  as  grand  as  a  lord,  though  he 
has  scarcely  five  shillings  left  in  his  pocket,  and  more  than 
twenty  miles  to  get  home. 

'  Where  to,  sir  ? ' 

'  Red  Lion,  Farringdon,'  says  Tom,  giving  Ostler  a  shilling. 

'All  right,  sir.  Red  Lion,  Jem,'  to  the  postboy,  and 
Tom  rattles  away  towards  home.  At  Farringdon,  being 
known  to  the  innkeeper,  he  gets  that  worthy  to  pay  for  the 
Oxford  horses,  and  forward  him  in  another  chaise  at  once  ; 
and  so  the  gorgeous  young  gentleman  arrives  at  the  pater- 
nal mansion,  and  Squire  Brown  looks  rather  blue  at  having 
to  pay  two  pound  ten  shillings  for  the  posting  expenses 
from  Oxford.  But  the  boy's  intense  joy  at  getting  home, 
and  the  wonderful  health  he  is  in,  and  the  good  character 
he  brings,  and  the  brave  stories  he  tells  of  Rugby,  its  doings 
and  delights,  soon  mollify  the  Squire,  and  three  happier 
people  did  n't  sit  down  to  dinner  that  day  in  England 
(it  is  the  boy's  first  dinner  at  six  o'clock  at  home,  great 
promotion  already),  than  the  Squire  and  his  wife,  and 
Tom  Brown,  at  the  end  of  his  first  half-year  at  Rugby. 


[183] 


of 

'  They  are  slaves  who  will  not  choose 
Hatred,  scoffitig,  and  abuse. 
Rather  than  in  silence  shrink 
From  the  truth  they  needs  must  think: 
They  are  slaves  who  dare  not  be 
In  the  right  with  two  or  three. ^ 

Lowell,  Stanzas  on  Freedom 

HE  lower-fourth  form,  in  which  Tom 
found  himself  at  the  beginning  of  the 
next  half-year,  was  the  largest  form  in 
the  lower  school,  and  numbered  upwards 
of  forty  boys.  Young  gentlemen  of  all 
ages,  from  nine  to  fifteen,  w-ere  to  be 
found  there,  who  expended  such  part  of  their  energies  as 
was  devoted  to  Latin  and  Greek  upon  a  book  of  Livy,  the 
Bucolics  of  Virgil,  and  the  Hecuba  of  Euripides,  which  were 
ground  out  in  small  daily  portions.  The  driving  of  this 
unlucky  lower-fourth  must  have  been  grievous  work  to  the 
unfortunate  master,  for  it  was  the  most  unhappily  consti- 
tuted of  any  in  the  School.  Here  stuck  the  great  stupid 
boys,  who  for  the  life  of  them  could  never  master  the 
accidence;  the  objects  alternately  of  mirth  and  terror  to  the 

[184] 


w 

THE    LOWER-FOURTH 

youngsters,  who  were  daily  taking  them  up,  and  laughing 
at  them  in  lesson,  and  getting  kicked  by  them  for  so  doing 
in  play-hours.  There  were  no  less  than  three  unhappy 
fellows  in  tail  coats,  with  incipient  down  on  their  chins, 
whom  the  Doctor  and  the  master  of  the  form  were  always 
endeavouring  to  hoist  into  the  upper  school,  but  whose 
parsing  and  construing  resisted  the  most  well-meant  shoves. 
Then  came  the  mass  of  the  form,  boys  of  eleven  and  twelve, 
the  most  mischievous  and  reckless  age  of  British  youth,  of 
whom  East  and  Tom  Brown  were  fair  specimens.  As  full 
of  tricks  as  monkeys,  and  of  excuses  as  Irish  women,  mak- 
ing fun  of  their  master,  one  another,  and  their  lessons, 
Argus  himself  would  have  been  puzzled  to  keep  an  eye  on 
them ;  and  as  for  making  them  steady  or  serious  for  half 
an  hour  together,  it  was  simply  hopeless.  The  remainder 
of  the  form  consisted  of  young  prodigies  of  nine  and  ten, 
who  were  going  up  the  school  at  the  rate  of  a  form  a  half- 
year,  all  boys'  hands  and  wits  being  against  them  in  their 
progress.  It  would  have  been  one  man's  work  to  see  that 
the  precocious  youngsters  had  fair  play ;  and  as  the  master 
had  a  good  deal  besides  to  do,  they  had  n't,  and  were  for 
ever  being  shoved  down  three  or  four  places,  their  verses 
stolen,  their  books  inked,  their  jackets  whitened,  and  their 
lives  otherwise  made  a  burden  to  them. 

The  lower-fourth,  and  all  the  forms  below  it,  were  heard 
in  the  great  school,  and  were  not  trusted  to  prepare  their 
lessons  before  coming  in,  but  were  whipped  into  school 
three-quarters  of  an  hour  before  the  lesson  began  by  their 
respective  masters,  and  there,  scattered  about  on  the 
benches,  with  dictionary  and  grammar,  hammered  out  their 
twenty  lines  of  Virgil  and  Euripides  in  the  midst  of  Babel. 

[185] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

The  masters  of  the  lower  school  walked  up  and  down  the 
great  school  together  during  this  three-quarters  of  an  hour, 
or  sat  in  their  desks  reading  or  looking  over  copies,  and 
keeping  such  order  as  was  possible.  But  the  lower-fourth 
was  just  now  an  overgrown  form,  too  large  for  any  one  man 
to  attend  to  properly,  and  consequently  the  elysium  or  ideal 
form  of  the  young  scapegraces  who  formed  the  staple  of  it. 

Tom,  as  has  been  said,  had  come  up  from  the  third  with 
a  good  character,  but  the  temptations  of  the  lower-fourth 
soon  proved  too  strong  for  him,  and  he  rapidly  fell  away, 
and  became  as  unmanageable  as  the  rest.  For  some  weeks, 
indeed,  he  succeeded  in  maintaining  the  appearance  of 
steadiness,  and  was  looked  upon  favourably  by  his  new 
master,  whose  eyes  were  first  opened  by  the  following  little 
incident. 

Besides  the  desk  which  the  master  himself  occupied, 
there  was  another  large  unoccupied  desk  in  the  corner  of 
the  great  school,  which  was  untenanted.  To  rush  and  seize 
upon  this  desk,  which  was  ascended  by  three  steps,  and 
held  four  boys,  was  the  great  object  of  ambition  of  the 
lower-fourthers  ;  and  the  contentions  for  the  occupation  of 
it  bred  such  disorder,  that  at  last  the  master  forbade  its  use 
altogether.  This  of  course  was  a  challenge  to  the  more 
adventurous  spirits  to  occupy  it,  and  as  it  was  capacious 
enough  for  two  boys  to  lie  hid  there  completely,  it  was 
seldom  that  it  remained  empty,  notwithstanding  the  veto. 
Small  holes  were  cut  in  the  front,  through  which  the  occu- 
pants watched  the  masters  as  they  walked  up  and  down, 
and  as  lesson  time  approached,  one  boy  at  a  time  stole  out 
and  down  the  steps,  as  the  masters'  backs  were  turned,  and 
mingled  with  the  general  crowd  on  the  forms  below.    Tom 

[i86] 


TOM'S    FALL 

and  East  had  successfully  occupied  the  desk  some  half-dozen 
times,  and  were  grown  so  reckless  that  they  were  in  the 
habit  of  playing  small  games  with  fives  balls  inside,  when 


A    DESK    IN   THE   GREAT   SCHOOL 

the  masters  were  at  the  other  end  of  the  big  school.  One 
day,  as  ill-luck  would  have  it,  the  game  became  more  excit- 
ing than  usual,  and  the  ball  slipped  through  East's  fingers, 
and  rolled  slowly  down  the  steps,  and  out  into  the  middle 

[187] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

of  the  school,  just  as  the  masters  turned  in  their  walk  and 
faced  round  upon  the  desk.  The  young  delinquents  watched 
their  master  through  the  look-out  holes  march  slowly  down 
the  school  straight  upon  their  retreat,  while  all  the  boys  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  course  stopped  their  work  to  look  on : 
and  not  only  were  they  ignominiously  drawn  out,  and  caned 
over  the  hand  then  and  there,  but  their  characters  for 
steadiness  were  gone  from  that  time.  However,  as  they 
only  shared  the  fate  of  some  three-fourths  of  the  rest  of 
the  form,  this  did  not  weigh  heavily  upon  them. 

In  fact,  the  only  occasions  on  which  they  cared  about  the 
matter  were  the  monthly  examinations,  when  the  Doctor 
came  round  to  examine  their  form,  for  one  long  awful  hour, 
in  the  work  which  they  had  done  in  the  preceding  month. 
The  second  monthly  examination  came  round  soon  after 
Tom's  fall,  and  it  was  with  anything  but  lively  anticipations 
that  he  and  the  other  lower-fourth  boys  came  into  prayers 
on  the  morning  of  the  examination  day. 

Prayers  and  calling-over  seemed  twice  as  short  as  usual, 
and  before  they  could  get  construes  of  a  tithe  of  the  hard 
passages  marked  in  the  margin  of  their  books,  they  were  all 
seated  round,  and  the  Doctor  was  standing  in  the  middle, 
talking  in  whispers  to  the  master.  Tom  could  n't  hear  a 
word  which  passed,  and  never  lifted  his  eyes  from  his  book ; 
but  he  knew  by  a  sort  of  magnetic  instinct  that  the  Doctor's 
under-lip  w^as  coming  out  and  his  eye  beginning  to  burn, 
and  his  gown  getting  gathered  up  more  and  more  tightly 
in  his  left  hand.  The  suspense  was  agonizing,  and  Tom 
knew  that  he  was  sure  on  such  occasions  to  make  an  ex- 
ample of  the  School-house  boys.  '  If  he  would  only  begin,' 
thought  Tom,  '  I  should  n't  mind.' 

[i88] 


I 


THE    DOCTOR'S    WRATH 

At  last  the  whispering  ceased,  and  the  name  which  was 
called  out  was  not  Brown.  He  looked  up  for  a  moment,  but 
the  Doctor's  face  was  too  awful ;  Tom  would  n't  have  met  his 
eye  for  all  he  was  worth,  and  buried  himself  in  his  book  again. 

The  boy  who  was  called  up  first  was  a  clever  merry  School- 
house  boy,  one  of  their  set :  he  was  some  connexion  of  the 
Doctor's,  and  a  great  favourite,  and  ran  in  and  out  of  his 
house  as  he  liked,  and  so  was  selected  for  the  first  victim. 

'  Triste  lupus  stabulis,'  began  the  luckless  youngster,  and 
stammered  through  some  eight  or  ten  lines. 

'There,  that  will  do,'  said  the  Doctor;   'now  construe.' 

On  common  occasions,  the  boy  could  have  construed  the 
passage  well  enough  probably,  but  now  his  head  was  gone. 

'Triste  lupus,  the  sorrowful  wolf,'  he  began. 

A  shudder  ran  through  the  whole  form,  and  the  Doctor's 
wrath  fairly  boiled  over ;  he  made  three  steps  up  to  the  con- 
struer,  and  gave  him  a  good  box  on  the  ear.  The  blow  was 
not  a  hard  one,  but  the  boy  was  so  taken  by  surprise  that 
he  started  back  ;  the  form  caught  the  back  of  his  knees, 
and  over  he  went  on  to  the  floor  behind.  There  was  a  dead 
silence  over  the  whole  school ;  never  before  and  never  again 
while  Tom  was  at  school  did  the  Doctor  strike  a  boy  in 
lesson.  The  provocation  must  have  been  great.  However, 
the  victim  had  saved  his  form  for  that  occasion,  for  the 
Doctor  turned  to  the  top  bench,  and  put  on  the  best  boys 
for  the  rest  of  the  hour ;  and  though,  at  the  end  of  the 
lesson,  he  gave  them  all  such  a  rating  as  they  did  not  for- 
get, this  terrible  field-day  passed  over  without  any  severe 
visitations  in  the  shape  of  punishments  or  floggings.  Forty 
young  scapegraces  expressed  their  thanks  to  the  '  sorrowful 
wolf '  in  their  different  ways  before  second  lesson. 

[189] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

But  a  character  for  steadiness  once  gone  is  not  easily 
recovered,  as  Tom  found,  and  for  years  afterwards  he  went 
up  the  school  without  it,  and  the  masters'  hands  were  against 
him,  and  his  against  them.  And  he  regarded  them,  as  a 
matter  of  course,  as  his  natural  enemies. 

Matters  were  not  so  comfortable  either  in  the  house  as 
they  had  been,  for  old  Brooke  left  at  Christmas,  and  one 
or  two  others  of  the  sixth-form  boys  at  the  following  Easter. 
Their  rule  had  been  rough,  but  strong  and  just  in  the  main, 
and  a  higher  standard  was  beginning  to  be  set  up  ;  in  fact, 
there  had  been  a  short  foretaste  of  the  good  time  which  fol- 
lowed some  years  later.  Just  now,  however,  all  threatened 
to  return  into  darkness  and  chaos  again.  For  the  new  prae- 
postors were  either  small  young  boys,  whose  cleverness  had 
carried  them  up  to  the  top  of  the  school,  while  in  strength 
of  body  and  character  they  were  not  yet  fit  for  a  share  in 
the  government ;  or  else  big  fellows  of  the  wrong  sort,  boys 
whose  friendships  and  tastes  had  a  downward  tendency,  who 
had  not  caught  the  meaning  of  their  position  and  work,  and 
felt  none  of  its  responsibilities.  So  under  this  no-government 
the  School-house  began  to  see  bad  times.  The  big  fifth-form 
boys,  who  were  a  sporting  and  drinking  set,  soon  began  to 
usurp  power,  and  to  fag  the  little  boys  as  if  they  were  prae- 
postors and  to  bully  and  oppress  any  who  showed  signs  of 
resistance.  The  bigger  sort  of  sixth-form  boys  just  described 
soon  made  common  cause  with  the  fifth,  while  the  smaller 
sort,  hampered  by  their  colleagues'  desertion  to  the  enemy, 
could  not  make  head  against  them.  So  the  fags  were  without 
their  lawful  masters  and  protectors,  and  ridden  over  rough- 
shod by  a  set  of  boys  whom  they  were  not  bound  to  obey,  and 
whose  only  right  over  them  stood  in  their  bodily  powers  ; 

[  190] 


A   CHANGE   FOR   THE   WORSE 

and,  as  old  Brooke  had  prophesied,  the  house  by  degrees 
broke  up  into  small  sets  and  parties,  and  lost  the  strong 
feeling  of  fellowship  which  he  set  so  much  store  by,  and 
with  it  much  of  the  prowess  in  games,  and  the  lead  in  all 
school  matters,  which  he  had  done  so  much  to  keep  up. 

In  no  place  in  the  world  has  individual  character  more 
weight  than  at  a  public  school.  Remember  this,  I  beseech 
you,  all  you  boys  who  are  getting  into  the  upper  forms. 
Now  is  the  time  in  all  }'our  lives,  probably,  when  you  may 
have  more  wide  influence  for  good  or  evil  on  the  society 
you  live  in  than  you  ever  can  have  again.  Quit  yourselves 
like  men,  then  ;  speak  up,  and  strike  out  if  necessary  for 
whatsoever  is  true,  and  manly,  and  lovely,  and  of  good 
report.  Never  try  to  be  popular,  but  only  to  do  your  duty 
and  help  others  to  do  theirs,  and  you  may  leave  the  tone 
of  feeling  in  the  school  higher  than  you  found  it,  and  so  be 
doing  good,  which  no  living  soul  can  measure,  to  genera- 
tions of  your  countrymen  yet  unborn.  For  boys  follow  one 
another  in  herds  like  sheep,  for  good  or  evil ;  they  hate 
thinking,  and  have  rarely  any  settled  principles.  Every 
school,  indeed,  has  its  own  traditionary  standard  of  right 
and  wrong,  which  cannot  be  transgressed  with  impunity, 
marking  certain  things  as  low  and  blackguard,  and  certain 
others  as  lawful  and  right.  This  standard  is  ever  varying, 
though  it  changes  only  slowly,  and  little  by  little  ;  and,  sub- 
ject only  to  such  standard,  it  is  the  leading  boys  for  the 
time  being  who  give  the  tone  to  all  the  rest,  and  make  the 
School  either  a  noble  institution  for  the  training  of  Chris- 
tian Englishmen,  or  a  place  where  a  young  boy  will  get  more 
evil  than  he  would  if  lie  were  turned  out  to  make  his  way 
in  London  streets,  or  anything  between  these  two  extremes. 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

The  change  for  the  worse  in  the  School-house,  however, 
did  n't  press  very  heavily  on  our  youngsters  for  some  time  ; 
they  were  in  a  good  bedroom,  where  slept  the  only  prae- 
postor left  who  was  able  to  keep  thorough  order,  and  their 
study  was  in  his  passage ;  so,  though  they  were  fagged 
more  or  less,  and  occasionally  kicked  or  cuffed  by  the  bullies, 
they  were  on  the  whole  well  off ;  and  the  fresh  brave  school- 
life,  so  full  of  games,  adventures,  and  good-fellowship,  so 
ready  at  forgetting,  so  capacious  at  enjoying,  so  bright  at 
forecasting,  outweighed  a  thousandfold  their  troubles  with 
the  master  of  their  form,  and  the  occasional  ill-usage  of 
the  big  boys  in  the  house.  It  was  n't  till  some  year  or 
so  after  the  events  recorded  above  that  the  praepostor  of 
their  room  and  passage  left.  None  of  the  other  sixth-form 
boys  would  move  into  their  passage,  and,  to  the  disgust  and 
indignation  of  Tom  and  East,  one  morning  after  breakfast 
they  were  seized  upon  by  Flashman,  and  made  to  carry 
down  his  books  and  furniture  into  the  unoccupied  study 
which  he  had  taken.  From  this  time  they  began  to  feel 
the  weight  of  the  tyranny  of  Flashman  and  his  friends, 
and,  now  that  trouble  had  come  home  to  their  own  doors, 
began  to  look  out  for  sympathizers  and  partners  amongst 
the  rest  of  the  fags ;  and  meetings  of  the  oppressed  began 
to  be  held,  and  murmurs  to  arise,  and  plots  to  be  laid,  as 
to  how  they  should  free  themselves  and  be  avenged  on 
their  enemies. 

While  matters  were  in  this  state.  East  and  Tom  were 
one  evening  sitting  in  their  study.  They  had  done  their 
work  for  first  lesson,  and  Tom  was  in  a  brown-study,  brood- 
ing, like  a  young  William  Tell,  upon  the  wrongs  of  fags 
in  general,  and  his  own  in  particular. 

[192] 


BURSTING    POINT 

*I  say,  Scud,'  said  he  at  last,  rousing  himself  to  snuff 
the  candle,  '  what  right  have  the  fifth-form  boys  to  fag  us 
as  they  do  ? ' 

'  No  more  right  than  you  have  to  fag  them,'  answered 
East,  without  looking  up  from  an  early  number  of  Pickwick, 
which  was  just  coming  out,  and  which  he  was  luxuriously 
devouring,  stretched  on  his  back  on  the  sofa. 

Tom  relapsed  into  his  brown-study,  and  East  went  on 
reading  and  chuckUng.  The  contrast  of  the  boys'  faces 
would  have  given  infinite  amusement  to  a  looker-on,  the 
one  so  solemn  and  big  with  mighty  purpose,  the  other 
radiant  and  bubbling  over  with   fun. 

'  Do  you  know,  old  fellow,  I  've  been  thinking  it  over  a 
good  deal,'  began  Tom  again. 

*  Oh  yes,  I  know,  fagging  you  are  thinking  of.  Hang  it 
all  —  but  listen  here,  Tom  —  here  's  fun.  Mr.  Winkle's 
horse  — ' 

'And  I've  made  up  my  mind,'  broke  in  Tom,  'that  I 
won't  fag  except  for  the  sixth.' 

'Quite  right,  too,  my  boy,'  cried  East,  putting  his  finger 
on  the  place  and  looking  up  ;  '  but  a  pretty  peck  of  troubles 
you  '11  get  into,  if  you  're  going  to  play  that  game.  However, 
I'm  all  for  a  strike  myself,  if  we  can  get  others  to  join  — 
it 's  getting  too  bad.' 

'  Can't  we  get  some  sixth-form  fellow  to  take  it  up  ? ' 
asked  Tom. 

'  Well,  perhaps  we  might ;  Morgan  would  interfere,  I 
think.  Only,'  added  East,  after  a  moment's  pause,  'you 
see  we  should  have  to  tell  him  about  it,  and  that 's  against 
School  principles.  Don't  you  remember  what  old  Brooke 
said  about  learning  to  take  our  own  parts  ? ' 

[  193] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

'  Ah,  I  wish  old  Brooke  were  back  again  —  it  was  all 
right  in  his  time.' 

'  Why  yes,  you  see,  then  the  strongest  and  best  fellows 
were  in  the  sixth,  and  the  fifth-form  fellows  were  afraid  of 
them,  and  they  kept  good  order ;  but  now  our  sixth-form 
fellows  are  too  small,  and  the  fifth  don't  care  for  them, 
and   do  what   they   like   in   the   house.' 

'  And  so  we  get  a  double  set  of  masters,'  cried  Tom 
indignantly  ;  '  the  lawful  ones,  who  are  responsible  to  the 
Doctor  at  any  rate,  and  the  unlawful  —  the  tyrants,  who 
are  responsible  to  nobody.' 

'Down  with  the  tyrants!'  cried  East;  'I'm  all  for  law 
and  order,  and  hurrah  for  a  revolution.' 

'  I  should  n't  mind  if  it  were  only  for  young  Brooke  now,' 
said  Tom,  '  he  's  such  a  good-hearted,  gentlemanly  fellow, 
and  ought  to  be  in  the  sixth  —  I'd  do  anything  for  him. 
But  that  blackguard  Flashman,  who  never  speaks  to  one 
without  a   kick   or  an   oath — ' 

'  The  cowardly  brute, '  broke  in  East,  '  how  I  hate  him  ! 
And  he  knows  it  too  ;  he  knows  that  you  and  I  think  him  a 
coward.  What  a  bore  that  he  's  got  a  study  in  this  passage  ! 
Don't  you  hear  them  now  at  supper  in  his  den  ?  Brandy 
punch  going,  I  '11  bet.  I  wish  the  Doctor  would  come  out  and 
catch  him.    We  must  change  our  study  as  soon  as  we  can.' 

'  Change  or  no  change,  I  '11  never  fag  for  him  again,' 
said  Tom,  thumping  the  table. 

'  Fa-a-a-ag !  '  sounded  along  the  passage  from  Flashman's 
study.  The  two  boys  looked  at  one  another  in  silence.  It 
had  struck  nine,  so  the  regular  night-fags  had  left  duty,  and 
they  were  the  nearest  to  the  supper-party.  East  sat  up,  and 
began  to  look  comical,  as  he  always  did  under  difficulties. 

[194] 


KKHvu/yy^-^^rvy-i^' 


DON'T  YOU  rememi;f.r  what  old  i'.roork  said  about 

LEARNING   TO   TAKE   OUR    OWN    PARTS?"' 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

*  Fa-a-a-ag !  '  again.    No  answer. 

'Here,  Brown!  East!  you  cursed  young  skulks,'  roared 
out  Flashman,  coming  to  his  open  door,  '  I  know  you  're  in 
—  no  shirking.' 

Tom  stole  to  their  door,  and  drew  the  bolts  as  noiselessly 
as  he  could ;  East  blew  out  the  candle.  *  Barricade  the 
first,'   whispered    he.      '  Now,    Tom,    mind,    no    surrender.' 

'Trust  me  for  that,'  said  Tom  between  his  teeth. 

In  another  minute  they  heard  the  supper-party  turn  out 
and  come  down  the  passage  to  their  door.  They  held  their 
breaths,  and  heard  whispering,  of  which  they  only  made 
out  Flashman's  words,   '  I  know  the  young  brutes  are  in.' 

Then  came  summonses  to  open,  which,  being  unanswered, 
the  assault  commenced.  Luckily  the  door  was  a  good  strong 
oak  one,  and  resisted  the  united  weight  of  Flashman's  party. 
A  pause  followed,  and  they  heard  a  besieger  remark, 
'They're  in  safe  enough  —  don't  you  see  how  the  door 
holds  at  top  and  bottom  ?  so  the  bolts  must  be  drawn.  We 
should  have  forced  the  lock  long  ago.'  East  gave  Tom  a 
nudge,  to  call  attention  to  this  scientific  remark. 

Then  came  attacks  on  particular  panels,  one  of  which  at 
last  gave  way  to  the  repeated  kicks  ;  but  it  broke  inwards, 
and  the  broken  piece  got  jammed  across,  the  door  being 
lined  with  green-baize,  and  couldn't  easily  be  removed  from 
outside ;  and  the  besieged,  scorning  further  concealment, 
strengthened  their  defences  by  pressing  the  end  of  their  sofa 
against  the  door.  So,  after  one  or  two  more  ineffectual  efforts, 
Flashman  &  Co.  retired,  vowing  vengeance  in  no  mild  terms. 

The  first  danger  over,  it  only  remained  for  the  besieged  to 
effect  a  safe  retreat,  as  it  was  now  near  bed-time.  They  lis- 
tened intently,  and  heard  the  supper-party  resettle  themselves, 

[196] 


I 


THE    SIEGE 

and  then  gently  drew  back  first  one  bolt  and  then  the 
other.  Presently  the  convivial  ,noises  began  again  steadily. 
'Now  then,  stand  by  for  a  run,'  said  East,  throwing  the 
door  wide  open  and  rushing  into  the  passage,  closely  followed 
by  Tom.  They  were  too  quick  to  be  caught,  but  Flashman 
was  on  the  look-out,  and  sent  an  empty  pickle-jar  whizzing 
after  them,  which  narrowly  missed  Tom's  head,  and  broke 
into  twenty  pieces  at  the  end  of  the  passage.  '  He  would  n't 
mind  killing  one,  if  he  wasn't  caught,'  said  East,  as  they 
turned  the  corner. 

There  was  no  pursuit,  so  the  two  turned  into  the  hall, 
where  they  found  a  knot  of  small  boys  round  the  fire. 
Their  story  was  told  —  the  war  of  independence  had  broken 
out  —  who  would  join  the  revolutionary  forces.?  Several 
others  present  bound  themselves  not  to  fag  for  the  fifth 
form  at  once.  One  or  two  only  edged  off,  and  left  the 
rebels.  What  else  could  they  do  .?  *  I  've  a  good  mind  to 
go  to  the  Doctor  straight,'  said  Tom. 

'  That  '11  never  do  —  don't  you  remember  the  levy  of  the 
School  last  half  ?  '  put  in  another. 

In  fact,  that  solemn  assembly,  a  levy  of  the  School,  had 
been  held,  at  which  the  captain  of  the  School  had  got  up, 
and,  after  premising  that  several  instances  had  occurred  of 
matters  having  been  reported  to  the  masters  ;  that  this  was 
against  public  morality  and  School  tradition  ;  that  a  levy  of 
the  sixth  had  been  held  on  the  subject,  and  they  had  re- 
solved that  the  practice  must  be  stopped  at  once  ;  had  given 
out  that  any  boy,  in  whatever  form,  who  should  thenceforth 
appeal  to  a  master,  without  having  first  gone  to  some  prae- 
postor and  laid  the  case  before  him.  should  be  thrashed 
publicly,  and  sent  to  Coventry. 

[197] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

'Well,  then,  let's  try  the  sixth.  Try  Morgan,'  suggested 
another. 

'  No  use  '  —  '  Blabbing  won't  do,'  was  the  general  feeling. 

'  I  '11  give  you  fellows  a  piece  of  advice,'  said  a  voice  from 
the  end  of  the  hall.  They  all  turned  round  with  a  start, 
and  the  speaker  got  up  from  a  bench  on  which  he  had  been 
lying  unobserved,  and  gave  himself  a  shake  ;  he  was  a  big 
loose-made  fellow,  with  huge  limbs  which  had  grown  too 
far  through  his  jacket  and  trousers.  '  Don't  you  go  to  any- 
body at  all — you  just  stand  out;  say  you  won't  fag  — 
they  '11  soon  get  tired  of  licking  you.  I  've  tried  it  on  years 
ago  with  their  forerunners.' 

'  No  !  did  you  .''  tell  us  how  it  was,'  cried  a  chorus  of 
voices,  as  they  clustered  round  him. 

'  Well,  just  as  it  is  with  you.  The  fifth  form  would  fag 
us,  and  I  and  some  more  struck,  and  we  beat  'em.  The 
good  fellows  left  off  directly,  and  the  bullies  who  kept  on 
soon  got  afraid.' 

'  Was  Flash  man  here  then  ? ' 

'  Yes !  and  a  dirty  little  snivelling,  sneaking  fellow  he 
was  too.  He  never  dared  join  us,  and  used  to  toady  the 
bullies  by  offering  to  fag  for  them,  and  peaching  against 
the   rest  of  us.' 

'  Why  was  n't  he  cut  then  .? '  said  East. 

'  Oh,  toadies  never  get  cut,  they  're  too  useful.  Besides, 
he  has  no  end  of  great  hampers  from  home,  with  wine  and 
game  in  them  ;  so  he  toadied  and  fed  himself  into  favour.' 

The  quarter-to-ten  bell  now  rang,  and  the  small  boys 
went  off  upstairs,  still  consulting  together,  and  praising  their 
new  counsellor,  who  stretched  himself  out  on  the  bench 
before   the   Hall   fire  again.    There   he  lay,  a  very  queer 

[198] 


A    COUNSELLOR 

specimen  of  boyhood,  by  name  Diggs,  and  familiarly  called 
'the  Mucker.'  He  was  young  for  his  size,  and  a  very  clever 
fellow,  nearly  at  the  top  of  the  fifth.  His  friends  at  home, 
having  regard,  I  suppose,  to  his  age,  and  not  to  his  size 
and  place  in  the  school,  had  n't  put  him  into  tails  ;  and 
even  his  jackets  were  always  too  small ;  and  he  had  a  talent 
for  destroying  clothes,  and  making  himself  look  shabby. 
He  was  n't  on  terms  with  Plashman's  set,  who  sneered  at 
his  dress  and  ways  behind  his  back,  which  he  knew,  and 
revenged  himself  by  asking  Flashman  the  most  disagreeable 
questions,  and  treating  him  familiarly  whenever  a  crowd  of 
boys  were  round  them.  Neither  was  he  intimate  with  any  of 
the  other  bigger  boys,  who  were  warned  off  by  his  oddnesses, 
for  he  was  a  very  queer  fellow ;  besides,  amongst  other 
failings,  he  had  that  of  impecuniosity  in  a  remarkable  de- 
gree. He  brought  as  much  money  as  other  boys  to  school, 
but  got  rid  of  it  in  no  time,  no  one  knew  how.  And  then, 
being  also  reckless,,  borrowed  from  any  one,  and  when  his 
debts  accumulated  and  creditors  pressed,  would  have  an  auc- 
tion in  the  Hall  of  everything  he  possessed  in  the  world, 
selling  even  his  school-books,  candlestick,  and  study  table. 
For  weeks  after  one  of  these  auctions,  having  rendered  his 
study  uninhabitable,  he  would  live  about  in  the  fifth-form 
room  and  Hall,  doing  his  verses  on  old  letter-backs  and 
odd  scraps  of  paper,  and  learning  his  lessons  no  one  knew 
how.  He  never  meddled  with  any  little  boy,  and  was  popu- 
lar with  them,  though  they  all  looked  on  him  with  a  sort 
of  compassion,  and  called  him  'poor  Diggs,'  not  being  able 
to  resist  appearances,  or  to  disregard  wholly  even  the  sneers 
of  their  enemy  Flashman.  However,  he  seemed  equally 
indifferent  to  the  sneers  of  big  boys  and  the  pity  of  small 

[199] 


TOM  BROWN'S  SCHOOL- DAYS 

ones,  and  lived  his  own  queer  life  with  much  apparent 
enjoyment  to  himself.  It  is  necessary  to  introduce  Diggs 
thus  particularly,  as  he  not  only  did  Tom  and  East  good  serv- 
ice in  their  present  warfare,  as  is  about  to  be  told,  but  soon 
afterwards,  when  he  got  into  the  sixth,  chose  them  for  his 
fags,  and  excused  them  from  study-fagging,  thereby  earning 
unto  himself  eternal  gratitude  from  them,  and  all  who  are 
interested  in  their  history. 

And  seldom  had  small  boys  more  need  of  a  friend,  for 
the  morning  after  the  siege  the  storm  burst  upon  the  rebels 
in  all  its  violence.  Flashman  laid  wait,  and  caught  Tom 
before  second  lesson,  and  receiving  a  point-blank  *  No,' 
when  told  to  fetch  his  hat,  seized  him  and  twisted  his  arm, 
and  went  through  the  other  methods  of  torture  in  use  :  — 
*  He  couldn't  make  me  cry  tho','  as  Tom  said  triumphantly 
to  the  rest  of  the  rebels,  *  and  I  kicked  his  shins  well,  I 
know.'  And  soon  it  crept  out  that  a  lot  of  the  fags  were 
in  league,  and  Flashman  excited  his  associates  to  join  him 
in  bringing  the  young  vagabonds  to  their  senses  ;  and  the 
house  was  filled  with  constant  chasings,  and  sieges,  and 
lickings  of  all  sorts ;  and  in  return,  the  bullies'  beds  were 
pulled  to  pieces,  and  drenched  with  water,  and  their  names 
written  up  on  the  walls  with  every  insulting  epithet  which 
the  fag  invention  could  furnish.  The  war,  in  short,  raged 
fiercely ;  but  soon,  as  Diggs  had  told  them,  all  the  better 
fellows  in  the  fifth  gave  up  tr}'ing  to  fag  them,  and  public 
feeling  began  to  set  against  Flashman  and  his  two  or  three 
intimates,  and  they  were  obliged  to  keep  their  doings  more 
secret,  but  being  thorough  bad  fellows,  missed  no  oppor- 
tunity of  torturing  in  private.  Flashman  was  an  adept  in 
all  ways,  but  above  all  in  the  power  of  saying  cutting  and 

[  200  ] 


THE    LAST    COMBATANTS 


■r^' 


THE   QUADRANGLE   AT   THE    PRESENT  DAY 

cruel  things,  and  could  often  bring  tears  to  the  eyes  of 
boys  in  this  way  which  all  the  thrashings  in  the  world 
would  n't  have  wrung  from  them. 

And   as   his    operations   were    being   cut    short   in   other 
directions,   he    now    devoted    himself   chiefly  to   Tom   and 

[201] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

East,  who  lived  at  his  own  door,  and  would  force  himself  into 
their  study  whenever  he  found  a  chance,  and  sit  there,  some- 
times alone,  sometimes  with  a  companion,  interrupting  all 
their  work,  and  exulting  in  the  evident  pain  which  every  now 
and  then  he  could  see  he  was  inflicting  on  one  or  the  other. 

The  storm  had  cleared  the  air  for  the  rest  of  the  house, 
and  a  better  state  of  things  now  began  than  there  had 
been  since  old  Brooke  had  left :  but  an  angry  dark  spot  of 
thunder-cloud  still  hung  over  the  end  of  the  passage,  where 
Flashman's  study  and  that  of  East  and  Tom  lay. 

He  felt  that  they  had  been  the  first  rebels,  and  that  the 
rebellion  had  been  to  a  great  extent  successful ;  but  what 
above  all  stirred  the  hatred  and  bitterness  of  his  heart 
against  them,  was  that  in  the  frequent  collisions  which 
there  had  been  of  late,  they  had  openly  called  him  cow- 
ard and  sneak  • —  the  taunts  were  too  true  to  be  forgiven. 
While  he  was  in  the  act  of  thrashing  them,  they  would  roar 
out  instances  of  his  funking  at  football,  or  shirking  some 
encounter  with  a  lout  of  half  his  own  size.  These  things 
were  all  well  enough  known  in  the  house,  but  to  have 
his  disgrace  shouted  out  by  small  boys,  to  feel  that  they 
despised  him,  to  be  unable  to  silence  them  by  any  amount 
of  torture,  and  to  see  the  open  laugh  and  sneer  of  his  own 
associates  (who  were  looking  on,  and  took  no  trouble  to 
hide  their  scorn  from  him,  though  they  neither  interfered 
with  his  bullying  or  lived  a  bit  the  less  intimately  with 
him),  made  him  beside  himself.  Come  what  might,  he 
would  make  those  boys'  lives  miserable.  So  the  strife  set- 
tled down  into  a  personal  affair  between  Flashman  and  our 
youngsters  ;  a  war  to  the  knife,  to  be  fought  out  in  the 
little  cockpit  at  the  end  of  the  bottom  passage. 

[  202  ] 


A    FORMIDABLE    ENEMY 

Flashman,  be  it  said,  was  about  seventeen  years  old,  and 
big  and  strong  for  his  age.  He  played  well  at  all  games 
where  pluck  was  n't  much  wanted,  and  managed  generally 
to  keep  up  appearances  where  it  was  ;  and  having  a  bluff 
off-hand  manner,  which  passed  for  heartiness,  and  consider- 
able powers  of  being  pleasant  when  he  liked,  went  down 
with  the  school  in  general  for  a  good  fellow  enough.  Even 
in  the  School-house,  by  dint  of  his  command  of  money,  the 
constant  supply  of  good  things  which  he  kept  up,  and  his 
adroit  toadyism,  he  had  managed  to  make  himself  not  only 
tolerated,  but  rather  popular  amongst  his  own  contempo- 
raries ;  although  young  Brooke  scarcely  spoke  to  him,  and 
one  or  two  others  of  the  right  sort  showed  their  opinions 
of  him  whenever  a  chance  offered.  But  the  wrong  sort 
happened  to  be  in  the  ascendant  just  now,  and  so  Flashman 
was  a  formidable  enemy  for  small  boys.  This  soon  became 
plain  enough.  Flashman  left  no  slander  unspoken,  and  no 
deed  undone,  which  could  in  any  way  hurt  his  victims,  or 
isolate  them  from  the  rest  of  the  house.  One  by  one  most 
of  the  other  rebels  fell  away  from  them,  while  Flashman 's 
cause  prospered,  and  several  other  fifth-form  boys  began  to 
look  black  at  them  and  ill-treat  them  as  they  passed  about 
the  house.  By  keeping  out  of  bounds,  or  at  all  events  out 
of  the  house  and  quadrangle,  all  day,  and  carefully  barring 
themselves  in  at  night,  East  and  Tom  managed  to  hold  on 
without  feeling  very  miserable  ;  but  it  was  as  much  as  they 
could  do.  Greatly  were  they  drawn  then  towards  old  Diggs, 
who,  in  an  uncouth  way,  began  to  take  a  good  deal  of  notice 
of  them,  and  once  or  twice  came  to  their  study  when  Flash- 
man  was  there,  who  immediately  decamped  in  consequence. 
The  boys  thought  that  Diggs  must  have  been  watching. 

[203] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

When  therefore,  about  this  time,  an  auction  was  one 
night  announced  to  take  place  in  the  Hall,  at  which, 
amongst  the  superfluities  of  other  boys,  all  Diggs'  Penates 
for  the  time  being  were  going  to  the  hammer.  East  and 
Tom  laid  their  heads  together,  and  resolved  to  devote  their 
ready  cash  (some  four  shillings  sterling)  to  redeem  such 
articles  as  that  sum  would  cover.  Accordingly,  they  duly 
attended  to  bid,  and  Tom  became  the  owner  of  two  lots 
of  Diggs'  things  —  lot  1,  price  one-and-threepence,  consist- 
ing (as  the  auctioneer  remarked)  of  a  '  valuable  assortment 
of  old  metals,'  in  the  shape  of  a  mouse-trap,  a  cheese- 
toaster  without  a  handle,  and  a  saucepan  ;  lot  2,  of  a  vil- 
lainous dirty  table-cloth  and  green-baize  curtain ;  while  East, 
for  one-and-sixpence,  purchased  a  leather  paper-case,  with 
a  lock  but  no  key,  once  handsome,  but  now  much  the  worse 
for  wear.  But  they  had  still  the  point  to  settle,  of  how  to 
get  Diggs  to  take  the  things  without  hurting  his  feelings. 
This  they  solved  by  leaving  them  in  his  study,  which  was 
never  locked  when  he  was  out.  Diggs,  who  had  attended 
the  auction,  remembered  who  had  bought  the  lots,  and  came 
to  their  study  soon  after,  and  sat  silent  for  some  time, 
cracking  his  great  red  finger-joints.  Then  he  laid  hold  of 
their  verses,  and  began  looking  over  and  altering  them, 
and  at  last  got  up,  and  turning  his  back  to  them,  said, 
'  You  're  uncommon  good-hearted  little  beggars,  you  two  — 
I  value  that  paper-case,  my  sister  gave  it  me  last  holidays 
—  I  won't  forget '  ;  and  so  tumbled  out  into  the  passage, 
leaving  them  somewhat  embarrassed,  but  not  sorry,  that  he 
knew  what  they  had  done. 

The  next  morning  was  Saturday,  the  day  on  which  the 
allowances  of  one  shilling  a  week  were  paid,  an  important 

[204] 


GENTLEMEN    SPORTSMEN 

event  to  spendthrift  youngsters  ;  and  great  was  the  disgust 
amongst  the  small  fry  to  hear  that  all  the  allowances  had 
been  impounded  for  the  Derby  lottery.  That  great  event 
in  the  English  year,  the  Derby,  was  celebrated  at  Rugby 
in  those  days  by  many  lotteries.  It  was  not  an  improving 
custom,  I  own,  gentle  reader,  and  led  to  making  books  and 
betting  and  other  objectionable  results  ;  but  when  our  great 
Houses  of  Palaver  think  it  right  to  stop  the  nation's  busi- 
ness on  that  day,  and  many  of  the  members  bet  heavily 
themselves,  can  you  blame  us  boys  for  following  the  example 
of  our  betters  ?  —  at  any  rate,  we  did  follow  it.  First  there 
was  the  great  School  lottery',  where  the  first  prize  was  six 
or  seven  pounds  ;  then  each  house  had  one  or  more  sepa- 
rate lotteries.  These  were  all  nominally  voluntary,  no  boy 
being  compelled  to  put  in  his  shilling  who  did  n't  choose 
to  do  so  :  but  besides  Flashman,  there  were  three  or  four 
other  fast  sporting  young  gentlemen  in  the  School-house 
who  considered  subscription  a  matter  of  duty  and  necessity, 
and  so,  to  make  their  duty  come  easy  to  the  small  boys, 
quietly  secured  the  allowances  in  a  lump  when  given  out 
for  distribution,  and  kept  them.  It  was  no  use  grumbling  — 
so  many  fewer  tartlets  and  apples  were  eaten  and  fives-balls 
bought  on  that  Saturday ;  and  after  locking-up,  when  the 
money  would  otherwise  have  been  spent,  consolation  was 
carried  to  many  a  small  boy  by  the  sound  of  the  night-fags 
shouting  along  the  passages,  '  Gentlemen  sportsmen  of  the 
School-house,  the  lottery  's  going  to  be  drawn  in  the  Hall.' 
It  was  pleasant  to  be  called  a  gentleman  sportsman  —  also 
to  have  a  chance  of  drawing  a  favourite  horse. 

The  Hall  was  full  of  boys,  and  at  the  head  of  one  of  the 
long  tables  stood   the   sporting   interest,  with  a  hat  before 

[205] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

them,  in  which  were  the  tickets  folded  up.  One  of  them 
then  began  calHng  out  the  hst  of  the  house ;  each  boy  as 
his  name  was  called  drew  a  ticket  from  the  hat  and  opened 
it ;  and  most  of  the  bigger  boys,  after  drawing,  left  the 
Hall  directly  to  go  back  to  their  studies  or  the  fifth-form 
room.  The  sporting  interest  had  all  drawn  blanks,  and  they 
were  sulky  accordingly ;  neither  of  the  favourites  had  yet 
been  drawn,  and  it  had  come  down  to  the  upper- fourth. 
So  now,  as  each  small  boy  came  up  and  drew  his  ticket,  it 
was  seized  and  opened  by  Flashman,  or  some  other  of  the 
standers-by.  But  no  great  favourite  is  drawn  until  it  comes 
to  the  Tadpole's  turn,  and  he  shuffles  up  and  draws,  and 
tries  to  make  off,  but  is  caught,  and  his  ticket  is  opened 
like  the  rest. 

'Here  you  are!  Wanderer!  the  third  favourite,'  shouts 
the  opener. 

'  I  say,  just  give  me  my  ticket,  please,'  remonstrates 
Tadpole. 

*  Hullo,  don't  be  in  a  hurry,'  breaks  in  Plashman  ;  '  what  '11 
you  sell  Wanderer  for,  now  ? ' 

'  I  don't  want  to  sell,'  rejoins  Tadpole. 

'  Oh,  don't  you  !  Now  listen,  you  young  fool — you  don't 
know  anything  about  it ;  the  horse  is  no  use  to  you.  He 
won't  win,  but  I  want  him  as  a  hedge.  Now  I  '11  give  you 
half  a  crown  for  him.'  Tadpole  holds  out,  but  between  threats 
and  cajoleries  at  length  sells  half  for  one  shilling  and 
sixpence,  about  a  fifth  of  its  fair  market  value ;  however, 
he  is  glad  to  realize  anything,  and,  as  he  wisely  remarks, 
'Wanderer  mayn't  win,  and  the  tizzy  is  safe,  anyhow.' 

East  presently  comes  up  and  draws  a  blank.  Soon  after 
comes  Tom's  turn  ;  his  ticket,  like  the  others,  is  seized  and 

[206] 


I 


M 


TOM'S    TICKET 

opened.  '  Here  you  are,  then,'  shouts  the  opener,  holding 
it  up,  '  Harkaway !  By  Jove,  Flashey,  your  young  friend  's 
'  in  luck.' 

'Give  me  the  ticket,'  says  Flashman  with  an  oath,  lean- 
ing across  the  table  with  open  hand,  and  his  face  black 
with  rage. 

'Wouldn't  you  like  it.?'  replies  the  opener,  not  a  bad 
fellow  at  the  bottom,  and  no  admirer  of  Flashman's.  '  Here, 
Brown,  catch  hold,'  and  he  hands  the  ticket  to  Tom,  who 
pockets  it ;  whereupon  Flashman  makes  for  the  door  at  once, 
that  Tom  and  the  ticket  may  not  escape,  and  there  keeps 
watch  until  the  drawing  is  over  and  all  the  boys  are  gone, 
except  the  sporting  set  of  five  or  six,  who  stay  to  compare 
books,  make  bets,  and  so  on,  Tom,  who  does  n't  choose  to 
move  while  Flashman  is  at  the  door,  and  East,  who  stays 
by  his  friend,  anticipating  trouble. 

The  sporting  set  now  gathered  round  Tom.  Public  opinion 
would  n't  allow  them  actually  to  rob  him  of  his  ticket,  but 
any  humbug  or  intimidation  by  which  he  could  be  driven  to 
sell  the  whole  or  part  at  an  under  value  was  lawful. 

'  Now,  young  Brown,  come,  what  '11  you  sell  me  Hark- 
away  for.?  I  hear  he  is  n't  going  to  start.  I  '11  give  you  five 
shillings  for  him,'  begins  the  boy  who  had  opened  the  ticket. 
Tom,  remembering  his  good  deed,  and,  moreover,  in  his 
forlorn  state  wishing  to  make  a  friend,  is  about  to  accept 
the  offer,  when  another  cries  out,  '  I  '11  give  you  seven 
shillings.'    Tom  hesitated,  and  looked  from  one  to  the  other, 

'  No,  no  !  '  said  Flashman,  pushing  in,  '  leave  me  to  deal 
with  him  ;  we  '11  draw  lots  for  it  afterwards.  Now,  sir,  you 
know  mc  —  you  '11  sell  Harkaway  to  us  for  five  shillings,  or 
you  '11  repent  it,' 

[207] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

'I  won't  sell  a  bit  of  him,'  answered  Tom  shortly. 

'  You  hear  that  now !  '  said  Flashman,  turning  to  the 
others.  '  He  's  the  coxiest  young  blackguard  in  the  house 
—  I  always  told  you  so.  We  're  to  have  all  the  trouble 
and  risk  of  getting  up  the  lotteries  for  the  benefit  of  such 
fellows  as  he.' 

Flashman  forgets  to  explain  what  risk  they  ran,  but  he 
speaks  to  willing  ears.  Gambling  makes  boys  selfish  and 
cruel  as  well  as  men. 

'  That 's  true  —  we  always  draw  blanks,'  cried  one.  '  Now, 
sir,  you  shall  sell  half,  at  any  rate.' 

'  I  won't,'  said  Tom,  flushing  up  to  his  hair,  and  lumping 
them  all  in  his  mind  with  his  sworn  enemy. 

'Very  well  then,  let's  roast  him,'  cried  Flashman,  and 
catches  hold  of  Tom  by  the  collar  :  one  or  two  boys  hesitate, 
but  the  rest  join  in.  East  seizes  Tom's  arm  and  tries  to 
pull  him  away,  but  is  knocked  back  by  one  of  the  boys, 
and  Tom  is  dragged  along  struggling.  His  shoulders  are 
pushed  against  the  mantelpiece,  and  he  is  held  by  main 
force  before  the  fire,  Flashman  drawing  his  trousers  tight 
by  way  of  extra  torture.  Poor  East,  in  more  pain  even 
than  Tom,  suddenly  thinks  of  Diggs,  and  darts  off  to  find 
him.  '  Will  you  sell  now  for  ten  shillings  .'' '  says  one  boy, 
who  is  relenting. 

Tom  only  answeis  by  groans  and  struggles. 

'  I  say,  Flashey,  he  has  had  enough,'  says  the  same  boy, 
dropping  the  arm  he  holds. 

'  No,  no,  another  turn  '11  do  it,'  answers  Flashman.  But 
poor  Tom  is  done  already,  turns  deadly  pale,  and  his  head 
falls  forward  on  his  breast,  just  as  Diggs,  in  frantic  excite- 
ment, rushes  into  the  Hall  with  East  at  his  heels. 

[208] 


I 


ROASTING    A    FAG 

'  You  cowardly  brutes !  '  is  all  he  can  say  as  he  catches 
Tom  from  them  and  supports  him  to  the  Hall  table.  '  Good 
God!  he's  dying.  Here,  get  some  cold  water  —  run  for 
the   housekeeper.' 

Flashman  and  one  or  two  others  slink  away ;  the  rest, 
ashamed  and  sorry,  bend  over  Tom  or  run  for  water,  while 
East  darts  off  for  the  housekeeper.  Water  comes,  and  they 
throw  it  on  his  hands  and  face,  and  he  begins  to  come  to. 
'  Mother  !  ' —  the  words  came  feebly  and  slowly  —  '  it 's  very 
cold  to-night.'  Poor  old  Diggs  is  blubbering  like  a  child. 
'  Where  am  I  ? '  goes  on  Tom,  opening  his  eyes.  '  Ah  !  I 
remember  now,'  and  he  shut  his  eyes  again  and  groaned. 

'I  say,'  is  whispered,  'we  can't  do  any  good,  and  the 
housekeeper  will  be  here  in  a  minute,'  and  all  but  one 
steal  away ;  he  stays  with  Diggs,  silent  and  sorrowful,  and 
fans  Tom's  face. 

The  housekeeper  comes  in  with  strong  salts,  and  Tom 
soon  recovers  enough  to  sit  up.  There  is  a  smell  of  burning  ; 
she  examines  his  clothes,  and  looks  up  inquiringly.  The 
boys  are  silent. 

*  How  did  he  come  so  ? '    No  answer. 

'There's  been  some  bad  work  here,'  she  adds,  looking 
very  serious,  '  and  I  shall  speak  to  the  Doctor  about  it.' 
Still  no  answer. 

'  Had  n't  we  better  carry  him  to  the  sick-room  ? ' 
suggests    Diggs. 

'Oh,  I  can  walk  now,'  says  Tom;  and,  supported  by 
East  and  the  housekeeper,  goes  to  the  sick-room.  The  boy 
who  held  his  ground  is  soon  amongst  the  rest,  who  are  all 
in  fear  of  their  lives.  '  Did  he  peach  .''  '  '  Does  she  know 
about  it  ? ' 

[209] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

*  Not  a  word  —  he  's  a  staunch  httle  fellow.'  And  pausing 
a  moment,  he  adds,  'I'm  sick  of  this  work:  what  brutes 
we  've  been  ! ' 

Meanwhile  Tom  is  stretched  on  the  sofa  in  the  house- 
keeper's room,  with  East  by  his  side,  while  she  gets  wine 
and  water  and  other  restoratives. 

'  Are  you  much  hurt,  dear  old  boy  ? '  whispers  East. 

'Only  the  back  of  my  legs,'  answers  Tom.  They  are 
indeed  badly  scorched,  and  part  of  his  trousers  burnt 
through.  But  soon  he  is  in  bed  with  cold  bandages.  At 
first  he  feels  broken,  and  thinks  of  writing  home  and 
getting  taken  away ;  and  the  verse  of  a  hymn  he  had 
learned  years  ago  sings  through  his  head,  and  he  goes  to 
sleep,  murmuring  — 

'  Where  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling, 
And  the  weary  are  at  rest.' 

But  after  a  sound  night's  rest  the  old  boy-spirit  comes 
back  again.  East  comes  in  reporting  that  the  whole  House 
is  with  him,  and  he  forgets  everything  except  their  old 
resolve,  never  to  be  beaten  by  that  bully  Flashman. 

Not  a  word  could  the  housekeeper  extract  from  either  of 
them,  and  though  the  Doctor  knew  all  that  she  knew  that 
morning,  he  never  knew  any  more.  • 

I  trust  and  believe  that  such  scenes  are  not  possible  now 
at  school,  and  that  lotteries  and  betting-books  have  gone  out ; 
but  I  am  writing  of  schools  as  they  were  in  our  time,  and 
must  give  the  evil  with  the  good. 


[210] 


/ 


g^^vf^c; 


»^M<U*?j 


bh-o;;s,t°^^  \".mo.'yff^> 


-^-^  ^-T"  ^"^^'^'^'    v^^v^-^Jtl^ir^^ga^^v^s's^. 


Chapter  IX 

*  Wherein  I  \jpeak\  of  most  disastrous  chances. 
Of  mo'-jing  accidents  by  flood  and  field. 
Of  hair-breadth  ^scapes.'' 

Shakespeare 


HEN  Tom  came  back  into  school  after 
a  couple  of  days  in  the  sick-room,  he 
found  matters  much  changed  for  the 
better,  as  East  had  led  him  to  expect. 
Flashman's  brutality  had  disgusted  even 
most  of  his  intimate  friends,  and  his  cowardice  had  once 
more  been  made  plain  to  the  House  ;  for  Diggs  had  en- 
countered him  on  the  morning  after  the  lottery,  and  after 
high  words  on  both  sides,  had  struck  him,  and  the  blow 
was  not  returned.  However,  Flashey  was  not  unused  to 
this  sort  of  thing,  and  had  lived  through  as  awkward  affairs 
before,  and,  as  Diggs  had  said,  fed  and  toadied  himself 
back  into  favour  again.  Two  or  three  of  the  boys  who 
had  helped  to  roast  Tom  came  up  and  begged  his  pardon, 

[211] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL- DAYS 

and  thanked  him  for  not  telling  anything.  Morgan  sent 
for  him,  and  was  inclined  to  take  the  matter  up  warmly, 
but  Tom  begged  him  not  to  do  it ;  to  which  he  agreed, 
on  Tom's  promising  to  come  to  him  at  once  in  future  — 
a  promise  which  I  regret  to  say  he  did  n't  keep.  Tom 
kept  Harkaway  all  to  himself,  and  won  the  second  prize 
in  the  lottery,  some  thirty  shillings,  which  he  and  East 
contrived  to  spend  in  about  three  days,  in  the  purchase  of 
pictures  for  their  study,  two  new  bats  and  a  cricket-ball, 
all  the  best  that  could  be  got,  and  a  supper  of  sausages, 
kidneys,  and  beef-steak  pies  to  all  the  rebels.  Light  come, 
light  go ;  they  would  n't  have  been  comfortable  with  money 
in  their  pockets  in  the  middle  of  the  half. 

The  embers  of  Flashman's  wrath,  however,  were  still 
smouldering,  and  burst  out  every  now  and  then  in  sly 
blows  and  taunts,  and  they  both  felt  that  they  had  n't  quite 
done  with  him  yet.  It  was  n't  long,  however,  before  the 
last  act  of  that  drama  came,  and  with  it,  the  end  of  bully- 
ing for  Tom  and  East  at  Rugby.  They  now  often  stole 
out  into  the  Hall  at  nights,  incited  thereto,  partly  by  the 
hope  of  finding  Diggs  there  and  having  a  talk  with  him, 
partly  by  the  excitement  of  doing  something  which  was 
against  rules ;  for,  sad  to  say,  both  of  our  youngsters,  since 
their  loss  of  character  for  steadiness  in  their  form,  had  got 
into  the  habit  of  doing  things  which  were  forbidden,  as  a 
matter  of  adventure  ;  just  in  the  same  way,  I  should  fancy, 
as  men  fall  into  smuggling,  and  for  the  same  sort  of  reasons. 
Thoughtlessness  in  the  first  place.  It  never  occurred  to 
them  to  consider  why  such  and  such  rules  were  laid  down, 
the  reason  was  nothing  to  them,  and  they  only  looked 
upon   rules    as  a  sort  of  challenge   from   the   rule-makers, 

[212] 


RULE-BREAKING 

which  it  would  be  rather  bad  pluck  in  them  not  to  accept ; 
and  then,  again,  in  the  lower  parts  of  the  school  they 
had  n't  enough  to  do.  The  work  of  the  form  they  could 
manage  to  get  through  pretty  easily,  keeping  a  good 
enough  place  to  get  their  regular  yearly  remove  ;  and  not 
having  much  ambition  beyond,  this,  their  whole  superfluous 
steam  was  available  for  games  and  scrapes.  Now,  one 
rule  of  the  House  which  it  was  a  daily  pleasure  of  all  such 
boys  to  break,  was  that  after  supper  all  fags,  except  the 
three  on  duty  in  the  passages,  should  remain  in  their  own 
studies  until  nine  o'clock  ;  and  if  caught  about  the  passages 
or  Hall,  or  in  one  another's  studies,  they  were  liable  to 
punishments  or  caning.  The  rule  was  stricter  than  its 
observance  ;  for  most  of  the  sixth  spent  their  evenings  in 
the  fifth-form  room,  where  the  library  was,  and  the  lessons 
were  learnt  in  common.  Every  now  and  then,  however,  a 
praepostor  would  be  seized  with  a  fit  of  district  visiting, 
and  would  make  a  tour  of  the  passages  and  Hall,  and  the 
fags'  studies.  Then,  if  the  owner  were  entertaining  a 
friend  or  two,  the  first  kick  at  the  door  and  ominous 
'  Open  here '  had  the  effect  of  the  shadow  of  a  hawk  over 
a  chicken-yard ;  every  one  cut  to  cover  —  one  small  boy 
diving  under  the  sofa,  another  under  the  table,  while  the 
owner  would  hastily  pull  down  a  book  or  two  and  open 
them,  and  cry  out  in  a  meek  voice,  '  Hullo,  who  's  there  ? ' 
casting  an  anxious  eye  round,  to  see  that  no  protruding 
leg  or  elbow  could  betray  the  hidden  boys.  '  Open,  sir, 
directly;  it's  Snooks.'  *  Oh,  I'm  very  sorry;  I  didn't 
know  it  was  you,  Snooks '  ;  and  then,  with  well-feigned 
zeal,  the  door  would  be  opened,  young  hopeful  praying 
that   that   beast    Snooks   might  n't   have    heard    the   scuffle 

[213] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL- DAYS 

caused  by  his  coming.  If  a  study  was  empty,  Snooks  pro- 
ceeded to  draw  the  passages  and  Hall  to  find  the  truants. 

Well,  one  evening,  in  forbidden  hours,  Tom  and  East 
were  in  the  Hall.  They  occupied  the  seats  before  the  fire 
nearest  the  door,  while  Diggs  sprawled  as  usual  before  the 
further  fire.  He  was  busy  with  a  copy  of  verses,  and  East 
and  Tom  were  chatting  together  in  whispers  by  the  light 
of  the  fire,  and  splicing  a  favourite  old  fives-bat  which  had 
sprung.  Presently  a  step  came  down  the  bottom  passage  ; 
they  listened  a  moment,  assured  themselves  that  it  was  n't 
a  praepostor,  and  then  went  on  with  their  work,  and  the 
door  swung  open,  and  in  walked  Flashman.  He  did  n't 
see  Diggs,  and  thought  it  a  good  chance  to  keep  his  hand 
in  ;  and  as  the  boys  did  n't  move  for  him,  struck  one  of 
them,  to  make  them  get  out  of  his  way. 

'  What 's  that  for  ? '  growled  the  assaulted  one. 

'  Because  I  choose.  You  've  no  business  here ;  go  to 
your  study.' 

'  You  can't  send  us.' 

'  Can't  I  }  Then  I  '11  thrash  you  if  you  stay,'  said 
Flashman  savagely. 

'  I  say,  you  two,'  said  E'ggs,  from  the  end  of  the  Hall, 
rousing  up  and  resting  himself  on  his  elbow,  '  you  '11  never 
get  rid  of  that  fellow  till  you  lick  him.  Go  in  at  him, 
both  of  you  —  I  '11  see  fair  play.' 

Flashman  was  taken  aback,  and  retreated  two  steps. 
East  looked  at  Tom.  'Shall  we  try.?'  said  he.  'Yes,' 
said  Tom,  desperately.  So  the  two  advanced  on  Flashman, 
with  clenched  fists  and  beating  hearts.  They  were  about 
up  to  his  shoulder,  but  tough  boys  of  their  age,  and  in 
perfect  training ;   while  he,  though  strong  and  big,  was  in 

[214] 


'SO   THK   TWO    AUVANCEU    ON    FLASH  INI  AN' 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

poor  condition  from  his  monstrous  habits  of  stuffing  and 
want  of  exercise.  Coward  as  he  was,  however,  Flashman 
could  n't  swallow  such  an  insult  as  this  ;  besides,  he  was 
confident  of  having  easy  work,  and  so  faced  the  boys, 
saying,  '  You  impudent  young  blackguards  !  '  —  Before  he 
could  finish  his  abuse,  they  rushed  in  on  him,  and  began 
pummelling  at  all  of  him  which  they  could  reach.  He  hit 
out  wildly  and  savagely,  but  the  full  force  of  his  blows 
did  n't  tell,  they  were  too  near  him.  It  was  long  odds, 
though,  in  point  of  strength,  and  in  another  minute  Tom 
went  spinning  backwards  over  a  form,  and  Flashman 
turned  to  demolish  East,  with  a  savage  grin.  But  now 
Diggs  jumped  down  from  the  table  on  which  he  had 
seated  himself.  'Stop  there,'  shouted  he,  'the  round's 
over  —  half-minute  time  allowed.' 

'  What  the is  it  to  you  ? '   faltered   Flashman,  who 

began  to  lose  heart. 

'  Fm  going  to  see  fair,  I  tell  you,'  said  Diggs  with  a 
grin,  and  snapping  his  great  red  fingers  ;  '  'tain't  fair  for 
you  to  be  fighting  one  of  them  at  a  time.  Are  you  ready, 
Brown  ?    Time  's  up.' 

The  small  boys  rushed  in  again.  Closing  they  saw  was 
their  best  chance,  and  Flashman  was  wilder  and  more 
flurried  than  ever  :  he  caught  East  by  the  throat,  and  tried 
to  force  him  back  on  the  iron-bound  table  ;  Tom  grasped 
his  waist,  and,  remembering  the  old  throw  he  had  learned 
in  the  Vale  from  Harry  Winburn,  crooked  his  leg  inside 
Flashman's,  and  threw  his  whole  weight  forward.  The 
three  tottered  for  a  moment,  and  then  over  they  went  on 
to  the  floor,  Flashman  striking  his  head  against  a  form  in 
the  Hall. 

[216] 


'OVER   THi:\-   WENT   ON    TO   THE    FLOOR,    FLASH  MAN 
STRIKING   HIS   HEAP   AGAINST   A   FORl\I' 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

The  two  youngsters  sprang  to  their  legs,  but  he  lay 
there  still.  They  began  to  be  frightened.  Tom  stooped 
down,  and  then  cried  out,  scared  out  of  his  wits,  '  He 's 
bleeding  awfully  ;   come  here.  East,  Diggs  —  he  's  dying  !  ' 

'  Not  he,'  said  Diggs,  getting  leisurely  off  the  table ; 
'  it 's  all  sham  —  he  's  only  afraid  to  fight  it  out.' 

East  was  as  frightened  as  Tom.  Diggs  lifted  Flash- 
man's  head,  and  he  groaned. 

'  What 's  the  matter  ? '  shouted  Diggs. 

'My  skull's  fractured,'  sobbed  Flashman. 

*  Oh,  let  me  run  for  the  housekeeper,'  cried  Tom. 
•  What  shall  we  do  ? ' 

'Fiddlesticks!  it's  nothing  but  the  skin  broken,'  said 
the  relentless  Diggs,  feeling  his  head.  '  Cold  water  and  a 
bit  of  rag  's  all  he  '11  want.' 

*  Let  me  go,'  said  Flashman,  surlily,  sitting  up ;  '  I  don't 
want  your  help.' 

'We  're  really  very  sorry,'  began  East. 

'  Hang  your  sorrow,'  answered  Flashman,  holding  his 
handkerchief  to  the  place  ;  '  you  shall  pay  for  this,  I  can 
tell   you,   both  of  you.'    And   he  walked  out  of  the   Hall. 

'  He  can't  be  very  bad,'  said  Tom  with  a  deep  sigh, 
much  relieved  to  see  his  enemy  march  so  well. 

'Not  he,'  said  Diggs,  'and  you'll  see  you  won't  be 
troubled  with  him  any  more.  But,  I  say,  your  head 's 
broken  too- — -your  collar  is  covered  with   blood.' 

'  Is  it,  though  ? '  said  Tom,  putting  up  his  hand ;  '  I 
did  n't  know  it.' 

'  Well,  mop  it  up,  or  you  '11  have  your  jacket  spoilt. 
And  you  have  got  a  nasty  eye.  Scud  ;  you  'd  better  go 
and  bathe  it  well  in  cold  water.' 

[218] 


ACCOUNTS    SQUARED   WITHFLASHMAN 

'  Cheap  enough  too,  if  we  've  done  with  our  old  friend 
Flashey,'  said  East,  as  they  made  off  upstairs  to  bathe 
their  wounds. 

They  had  done  with  Flashman  in  one  sense,  for  he 
never  laid  finger  on  either  of  them  again  ;  but  whatever 
harm  a  spiteful  heart  and  venomous  tongue  could  do  them, 
he  took  care  should  be  done.  Only  throw  dirt  enough,  and 
some  of  it  is  sure  to  stick  ;  and  so  it  was  with  the  fifth 
form  and  the  bigger  boys  in  general,  with  whom  he  as- 
sociated more  or  less,  and  they  not  at  all.  Flashman  man- 
aged to  get  Tom  and  East  into  disfavour,  which  did  not 
wear  off  for  some  time  after  the  author  of  it  had  disappeared 
from  the  School  world.  This  event,  much  prayed  for  by 
the  small  fry  in  general,  took  place  a  few  months  after  the 
above  encounter.  One  fine  summer  evening  Flashman  had 
been  regaling  himself  on  gin-punch,  at  Brownsover ;  and 
having  exceeded  his  usual  limits,  started  home  uproarious. 
He  fell  in  with  a  friend  or  two  coming  back  from  bath- 
ing, proposed  a  glass  of  beer,  to  which  they  assented,  the 
weather  being  hot,  and  they  thirsty  souls,  and  unaware  of 
the  quantity  of  drink  which  Flashman  had  already  on  board. 
The  short  result  was  that  Flashey  became  beastly  drunk  ; 
they  tried  to  get  him  along,  but  could  n't ;  so  they  chartered 
a  hurdle  and  two  men  to  carry  him.  One  of  the  masters 
came  upon  them,  and  they  naturally  enough  fled.  The 
flight  of  the  rest  raised  the  master's  suspicions,  and  the 
good  angel  of  the  fags  incited  him  to  examine  the  freight, 
and,  after  examination,  to  convoy  the  hurdle  himself  up  to 
the  School-house ;  and  the  Doctor,  who  had  long  had 
his  eye  on  Flashman,  arranged  for  his  withdrawal  next 
morning. 

[219] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

The  evil  that  men,  and  boys  too,  do,  hves  after  them  : 
Flashman  was  gone,  but  our  boys,  as  hinted  above,  still 
felt  the  effects  of  his  hate.  Besides,  they  had  been  the 
movers  of  the  strike  against  unlawful  fagging.  The  cause 
was  righteous  —  the  result  had  been  triumphant  to  a  great 
extent ;  but  the  best  of  the  fifth,  even  those  who  had  never 
fagged  the  small  boys,  or  had  given  up  the  practice  cheer- 
fully, could  n't  help  feeling  a  small  grudge  against  the 
first  rebels.  After  all,  their  form  had  been  defied  —  on  just 
grounds,  no  doubt ;  so  just,  indeed,  that  they  had  at  once 
acknowledged  the  wrong,  and  remained  passive  in  the  strife : 
had  they  sided  with  Flashman  and  his  set,  the  rebels  must 
have  given  way  at  once.  They  could  n't  help,  on  the  whole, 
being  glad  that  they  had  so  acted,  and  that  the  resis- 
tance had  been  successful  against  such  of  their  own  form 
as  had  shown  fight ;  they  felt  that  law  and  order  had  gained 
thereby,  but  the  ringleaders  they  couldn't  quite  pardon  at 
once.  '  Confoundedly  coxy  those  young  rascals  will  get,  if 
we  don't  mind,'  was  the  general  feeling. 

So  it  is,  and  must  be  always,  my  dear  boys.  If  the 
Angel  Gabriel  were  to  come  down  from  Heaven,  and 
head  a  successful  rise  against  the  most  abominable  and  un- 
righteous vested  interest  which  this  poor  old  world  groans 
under,  he  would  most  certainly  lose  his  character  for  many 
years,  probably  for  centuries,  not  only  with  upholders  of 
said  vested  interest,  but  with  the  respectable  mass  of  the 
people  whom  he  had  delivered.  They  would  n't  ask  him  to 
dinner,  or  let  their  names  appear  with  his  in  the  papers  ; 
they  would  be  very  careful  how  they  spoke  of  him  in  the 
Palaver,  or  at  their  clubs.  What  can  we  expect,  then,  when 
we  have  only  poor  gallant  blundering  men  like  Kossuth, 

[  220  ] 


FATE    OF    LIBERATORS 

Garibaldi,  Mazzini,  and  righteous  causes  which  do  not 
triumph  in  their  hands  ;  men  who  have  holes  enough  in 
their  armour,  God  knows,  easy  to  be  hit  by  respectabilities 
sitting  in  their  lounging  chairs,  and  having  large  balances 
at  their  bankers'  ?  But  you  are  brave  gallant  boys,  who 
hate  easy-chairs,  and  have  no  balances  or  bankers.  You 
only  want  to  have  your  heads  set  straight  to  take  the  right 
side  :  so  bear  in  mind  that  majorities,  especially  respectable 
ones,  are  nine  times  out  of  ten  in  the  wrong  ;  and  that  if  you 
see  a  man  or  boy  striving  earnestly  on  the  weak  side,  how- 
ever wrong-headed  or  blundering  he  may  be,  you  are  not  to 
go  and  join  the  cry  against  him.  If  you  can't  join  him  and 
help  him,  and  make  him.  wiser,  at  any  rate  remember  that 
he  has  found  something  in  the  world  which  he  will  fight 
and  suffer  for,  which  is  just  what  you  have  got  to  do  for 
yourselves ;  and  so  think  and  speak   of   him   tenderly. 

So  East  and  Tom,  the .  Tadpole,  and  one  or  two  more, 
became  a  sort  of  young  Ishmaelites,  their  hands  against 
every  one,  and  every  one's  hand  against  them.  It  has  been 
already  told  how  they  got  to  war  with  the  masters  and 
the  fifth  form,  and  with  the  sixth  it  was  much  the  same. 
They  saw  the  praepostors  cowed  by  or  joining  with  the  fifth, 
and  shirking  their  own  duties  ;  so  they  did  n't  respect  them, 
and  rendered  no  willing  obedience.  It  had  been  one  thing 
to  clean  out  studies  for  sons  of  heroes  like  old  Brooke,  but 
was  cjuitc  another  to  do  the  like  for  Snooks  and  Green, 
who  had  never  faced  a  good  scrummage  at  football,  and 
could  n't  keep  the  passages  in  order  at  night.  So  they 
only  slurred  through  their  fagging  just  well  enough  to 
escape  a  licking,  and  not  always  that,  and  got  the  char- 
acter  of    sulky,    unwilling    fags.     In    the    fifth-form   room, 

[221] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

after  supper,  when  such  matters  were  often  discussed  and 
arranged,  their  names  were  for  ever  coming  up. 

'I  say,  Green,'  Snooks  began  one  night,  'isn't  that  new 
boy,  Harrison,  your  fag  ? ' 

*  Yes,  why  ? ' 

'  Oh,  I  know  something  of  him  at  home,  and  should  hke 
to  excuse  him  —  will  you  swop  ? ' 

*  Who  will  you  give  me  ? ' 

'  Well,  let 's  see,  there  's  W^illis,  Johnson. —  No,  that  won't 
do.  Yes,  I  have  it  —  there  's  young  East,  I  '11  give  you  him.' 

'  Don't  you  wish  you  may  get  it .-' '  replied  Green.  *  I  '11 
tell  you  what  I  '11  do  —  I  '11  give  you  two  for  Willis,  if 
you  like.' 

'  Who  then  .? '  asks  Snooks. 

'  Hall  and  Brown.' 

'  Would  n't  have  'em  at  a  gift.' 

'  Better  than  East,  though  ;  for  they  ain't  quite  so  sharp,' 
said  Green,  getting  up  and  leaning  his  back  against  the 
mantel-piece — he  wasn't  a  bad  fellow,  and  couldn't  help 
not  being  able  to  put  down  the  unruly  fifth  form.  His 
eye  twinkled  as  he  went  on,  '  Did  I  ever  tell  you  how  the 
young  vagabond  sold  me  last  half  ? ' 

'  No  —  how  ? ' 

'  Well,  he  never  half  cleaned  my  study  out,  only  just 
stuck  the  candlesticks  in  the  cupboard,  and  swept  the 
crumbs  on  to  the  floor.  So  at  last  I  was  mortal  angry,  and 
had  him  up,  made  him  go  through  the  whole  performance 
under  my  eyes  :  the  dust  the  young  scamp  made  nearly 
choked  me,  and  showed  that  he  had  n't  swept  the  carpet 
before.  Well,  when  it  was  all  finished,  "  Now,  young 
gentleman,"  says  I,  "mind,  I  expect  this  to  be  done  every 

[222] 


THE    ISHMAELITES 

morning,  floor  swept,  table-cloth  taken  off  and  shaken,  and 
everything  dusted."  "Very  well,"  grunts  he.  Not  a  bit  of 
it  though  —  I  was  quite  sure  in  a  day  or  two  that  he  never 
took  the  table-cloth  off  even.  So  I  laid  a  trap  for  him  :  I 
tore  up  some  paper  and  put  half  a  dozen  bits  on  my  table 
one  night,  and  the  cloth  over  them  as  usual.  Next  morn- 
ing, after  breakfast,  up  I  came,  pulled  off  the  cloth,  and 
sure  enough  there  was  the  paper,  which  fluttered  down  on 
to  the  floor.  I  was  in  a  towering  rage.  "  I  've  got  you 
now,"  thought  I,  and  sent  for  him,  while  I  got  out  my 
cane.  Up  he  came  as  cool  as  you  please,  with  his  hands 
in  his  pockets.  "  Did  n't  I  tell  you  to  shake  my  table-cloth 
every  morning.?"  roared  I.  "Yes,"  says  he.  "Did  you 
do  it  this  morning.''"  "Yes."  "You  young  liar!  I  put 
these  pieces  of  paper  on  the  table  last  night,  and  if  you  'd 
taken  the  table-cloth  off  you'd  have  seen  them,  so  I'm 
going  to  give  you  a  good  licking."  Then  my  youngster 
takes  one  hand  out  of  his  pocket,  and  just  stoops  down 
and  picks  up  two  of  the  bits  of  paper,  and  holds  them  out 
to  me.  There  was  written  on  each,  in  great  round  text, 
"  Harry  East,  his  mark."  The  young  rogue  had  found  my 
trap  out,  taken  away  my  paper,  and  put  some  of  his  there, 
every  bit  ear-marked.  I'd  a  great  mind  to  lick  him  for  his 
impudence,  but  after  all  one  has  no  right  to  be  laying  traps, 
so  I  did  n't.  Of  course,  I  was  at  his  mercv  till  the  end 
of  the  half,  and  in  his  weeks  my  study  was  so  frowsy,  I 
could  n't  sit  in   it.' 

'They  spoil  one's  things  so,  too,'  chimed  in  a  third  boy. 
*  Hall  and  Brown  were  night-fags  last  week  :  I  called  "  Fag," 
and  gave  them  my  candlesticks  to  clean  ;  away  they  went, 
and  did  n't  appear  again.    When  they  'd  had  time  enough 

[223] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

to  clean  them  three  times  over,  I  went  out  to  look  after 
them.  They  were  n't  in  the  passages,  so  down  I  went  into 
the  Hall,  where  I  heard  music,  and  there  I  found  them 
sitting  on  the  table,  listening  to  Johnson,  who  was  playing 
the  flute,  and  my  candlesticks  stuck  between  the  bars  well 
into  the  fire,  red-hot,  clean-spoiled ;  they  've  never  stood 
straight  since,  and  I  must  get  some  more.  However,  I 
gave  them  both  a  good  licking,  that 's  one  comfort.' 

Such  were  the  sort  of  scrapes  they  were  always  getting 
into  :  and  so,  partly  by  their  own  faults,  partly  from  circum- 
stances, partly  from  the  faults  of  others,  they  found  them- 
selves outlaws,  ticket-of-leave  men,  or  what  you  will  in  that 
line  :  in  short,  dangerous  parties,  and  lived  the  sort  of  hand- 
to-mouth,  wild,  reckless  life  which  such  parties  generally 
have  to  put  up  with.  Nevertheless,  they  never  quite  lost 
favour  with  young  Brooke,  who  was  now  the  cock  of  the 
house,  and  just  getting  into  the  sixth,  and  Diggs  stuck  to 
them  like  a  man,  and  gave  them  store  of  good  advice,  by 
which  they  never  in  the  least  profited. 

And  even  after  the  house  mended,  and  law  and  order 
had  been  restored,  which  soon  happened  after  young  Brooke 
and  Diggs  got  into  the  sixth,  they  could  n't  easily  or  at  once 
return  into  the  paths  of  steadiness,  and  many  of  the  old 
wild  out-of-bounds  habits  stuck  to  them  as  firmly  as  ever. 
While  they  had  been  quite  little  boys,  the  scrapes  they  got 
into  in  the  School  had  n't  much  mattered  to  any  one  ;  but 
now  they  were  in  the  upper  school,  all  wrong-doers  from 
which  were  sent  up  straight  to  the  Doctor  at  once  :  so  they 
began  to  come  under  his  notice  ;  and  as  they  were  a  sort 
of  leaders  in  a  small  way  amongst  their  own  contemporaries, 
his  eye,  which  was  everywhere,  was  upon  them. 

[224] 


LISTENING    T(J    JOHNSON,    WHO    WAS    PLAYING   THE    FLUTE' 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

It  was  a  toss-up  whether  they  turned  out  well  or  ill,  and 
so  they  were  just  the  boys  who  caused  most  anxiety  to  such 
a  master.  You  have  been  told  of  the  first  occasion  on  which 
they  were  sent  up  to  the  Doctor,  and  the  remembrance  of 
it  was  so  pleasant  that  they  had  much  less  fear  of  him 
than  most  boys  of  their  standing  had.  '  It 's  all  his  look,' 
Tom  used  to  say  to  East,  '  that  frightens  fellows  :  don't 
you  remember,  he  never  said  anything  to  us  my  first  half- 
year,  for  being  an  hour  late  for  locking-up .'' ' 

The  next  time  that  Tom  came  before  him,  however,  the 
interview  was  of  a  very  different  kind.  It  happened  just  about 
the  time  at  which  we  have  now  arrived,  and  was  the  first 
of  a  series  of  scrapes  into  which  our  hero  managed  now 
to  tumble. 

The  river  Avon  at  Rugby  is  a  slow  and  not  very  clear 
stream,  in  which  chub,  dace,  roach,  and  other  coarse  fish 
are  (or  were)  plentiful  enough,  together  with  a  fair  sprin- 
kling of  small  jack,  but  no  fish  worth  sixpence  either  for 
sport  or  food.  It  is,  however,  a  capital  river  for  bathing, 
as  it  has  many  nice  small  pools  and  several  good  reaches 
for  swimming,  all  within  about  a  mile  of  one  another,  and 
at  an  easy  twenty  minutes'  walk  from  the  school.  This  mile 
of  water  is  rented,  or  used  to  be  rented,  for  bathing  pur- 
poses, by  the  Trustees  of  the  School,  for  the  boys.  The 
footpath  to  Brownsover  crosses  the  river  by  'the  Planks,'  a 
curious  old  single-plank  bridge,  running  for  fifty  or  sixty 
yards  into  the  flat  meadows  on  each  side  of  the  river  —  for 
in  the  winter  there  are  frequent  floods.  Above  the  Planks 
were  the  bathing-places  for  the  smaller  boys ;  Sleath's,  the 
first  bathing-place  where  all  new  boys  had  to  begin,  until 
they  had  proved  to  the  bathing-men  (three  steady  individuals 

[226] 


MISFORTUNE    THICKENS 

who  were  paid  to  attend  daily  through  the  summer  to 
prevent  accidents)  that  they  could  swim  pretty  decently, 
when  they  were  allowed  to  go  on  to  Anstey's,  about  one 
hundred  and  fifty  yards  below.  Here  there  was  a  hole  about 
six  feet  deep  and  twelve  feet  across,  over  which  the  puffing 
urchins  struggled  to  the  opposite  side,  and  thought  no  small 
beer  of  themselves  for  having  been  out  of  their  depths. 
Below  the  Planks  came  larger  and  deeper  holes,  the  first 
of  which  was  Wratislaw's,  and  the  last  Swift's,  a  famous 
hole,  ten  or  twelve  feet  deep  in  parts,  and  thirty  yards 
across,  from  which  there  was  a  fine  swimming  reach  right 
down  to  the  Mill.  Swift's  was  reserved  for  the  sixth  and 
fifth  forms,  and  had  a  spring-board  and  two  sets  of  steps  : 
the  others  had  one  set  of  steps  each,  and  were  used  indif- 
ferently by  all  the  lower  boys,  though  each  house  addicted 
itself  more  to  one  hole  than  to  another.  The  School-house 
at  this  time  affected  Wratislaw's  hole,  and  Tom  and  East, 
who  had  learnt  to  swim  like  fishes,  were  to  be  found  there 
as  regular  as  the  clock  through  the  summer,  always  twice, 
and  often  three  times  a  day. 

Now  the  boys  either  had,  or  fancied  they  had,  a  right 
also  to  fish  at  their  pleasure  over  the  whole  of  this  part  of 
the  river,  and  would  not  understand  that  the  right  (if  any) 
only  extended  to  the  Rugby  side.  As  ill  luck  would  have 
it,  the  gentleman  who  owned  the  opposite  bank,  after  allow- 
ing it  for  some  time  without  interference,  had  ordered  his 
keepers  not  to  let  the  boys  fish  on  his  side  ;  the  conse- 
quence of  which  had  been  that  there  had  been  first  wran- 
glings  and  then  fights  between  the  keepers  and  boys ; 
and  so  keen  had  the  quarrel  become,  that  the  landlord  and 
his  keepers,  after  a  ducking  had  been  inflicted  on  one  of 

[227  ] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

the  latter,  and  a  fierce  fight  ensued  thereon,  had  been  up 
to  the  great  school  at  calling-over  to  identify  the  delin- 
quents, and  it  was  all  the  Doctor  himself  and  five  or  six 
masters  could  do  to  keep  the  peace.  Not  even  his  authority 
could  prevent  the  hissing,  and  so  strong  was  the  feeling, 
that  the  four  praepostors  of  the  week  walked  up  the  school 
with  their  canes,  shouting  '  S-s-s-s-i-lenc-c-c-c-e  '  at  the  top 
of  their  voices.  However,  the  chief  offenders  for  the  time 
were  flogged  and  kept  in  bounds,  but  the  victorious  party 
had  brought  a  nice  hornet's  nest  about  their  ears.  The 
landlord  was  hissed  at  the  School  gates  as  he  rode  past, 
and  when  he  charged  his  horse  at  the  mob  of  boys,  and 
tried  to  thrash  them  with  his  whip,  was  driven  back 
by  cricket  bats  and  wickets,  and  pursued  with  pebbles 
and  fives-balls ;  while  the  wretched  keepers'  lives  were 
a  burthen  to  them,  from  having  to  watch  the  waters  so 
closely. 

The  School-house  boys  of  Tom's  standing,  one  and  all, 
as  a  protest  against  this  tyranny  and  cutting  short  of  their 
lawful  amusements,  took  to  fishing  in  all  ways,  and  espe- 
cially by  means  of  night-lines.  The  little  tackle-maker  at 
the  bottom  of  the  town  would  soon  have  made  his  fortune 
had  the  rage  lasted,  and  several  of  the  barbers  began  to  lay 
in  fishing-tackle.  The  boys  had  this  great  advantage  over 
their  enemies,  that  they  spent  a  large  portion  of  the  day  in 
nature's  garb  by  the  river-side,  and  so,  when  tired  of  swim- 
ming, would  get  out  on  the  other  side  and  fish,  or  set 
night-lines  till  the  keeper  hove  in  sight,  and  then  plunge 
in  and  swim  back  and  mix  with  the  other  bathers,  and  the 
keepers  were  too  wise  to  follow  across  the  stream. 

While  things  were  in  this  state,  one  day  Tom  and  three 

[228] 


CHAFFING    A    KEEPER 

or  four  others  were  bathing  at  Wratislaw's,  and  had,  as  a 
matter  of  course,  been  taking  up  and  resetting  night-lines. 
They  had  all  left  the  water,  and  were  sitting  or  standing 
about  at  their  toilets,  in  all  costumes  from  a  shirt  upwards, 
when  they  were  aware  of  a  man  in  a  velveteen  shooting-coat 
approaching  from  the  other  side.  He  was  a  new  keeper,  so 
they  did  n't  recognize  or  notice  him  till  he  pulled  up  right 
opposite,  and  began  : 

'  I  see'd  some  of  you  young  gentlemen  over  this  side 
a-fishing  just  now.' 

'  Hullo,  who  are  you  ?  What  business  is  that  of  yours, 
old  Velveteens  ? ' 

'I'm  the  new  under-keeper,  and  master's  told  me  to 
keep  a  sharp  look-out  on  all  o'  you  young  chaps.  And  I 
tells  'ee  I  means  business,  and  you  'd  better  keep  on  your 
own  side,  or  we  shall  fall  out.' 

'  Well,  that 's  right.  Velveteens  —  speak  out,  and  let  's 
know  your  mind  at  once.' 

'  Look  here,  old  boy,'  cried  East,  holding  up  a  miserable 
coarse  fish  or  two  and  a  small  jack,  '  would  you  like  to 
smell  'em  and  see  which  bank  they  lived  under  ? ' 

'  I  '11  give  you  a  bit  of  advice,  keeper,'  shouted  Tom, 
who  was  sitting  in  his  shirt  paddling  with  his  feet  in  the 
river ;  '  you  'd  better  go  down  there  to  Swift's,  where  the 
big  boys  are  ;  they  're  beggars  at  setting  lines,  and  '11  put 
you  up  to  a  wrinkle  or  two  for  catching  the  five-pounders.' 
Tom  was  nearest  to  the  keeper,  and  that  officer,  who  was 
getting  angry  at  the  chaff,  fixed  his  eyes  on  our  hero,  as  if 
to  take  a  note  of  him  for  future  use.  Tom  returned  his 
gaze  with  a  steady  stare,  and  then  broke  into  a  laugh,  and 
struck  into  the  middle  of  a  favourite  School-house  song  — 

[229] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

'  As  I  and  my  companions 
Were  setting  of  a  snare, 
The  gamekeeper  was  watching  us, 

For  him  we  did  not  care  : 
For  we  can  wrestle  and  fight,  my  boys, 
And  jump  out  anywhere. 

For  it 's  my  delight  of  a  likely  night. 
In  the  season  of  the  year.' 

The  chorus  was  taken  up  by  the  other  boys  with  shouts 
of  laughter,  and  the  keeper  turned  away  with  a  grunt,  but 
evidently  bent  on  mischief.  The  boys  thought  no  more  of 
the  matter. 

But  now  came  on  the  may-fly  season ;  the  soft,  hazy 
summer  weather  lay  sleepily  along  the  rich  meadows  by 
Avon  side,  and  the  green  and  grey  flies  flickered  with  their 
graceful  lazy  up-and-down  flight  over  the  reeds  and  the 
water  and  the  meadows,  in  myriads  upon  myriads.  The 
may-flies  must  surely  be  the  lotus-eaters  of  the  ephemerae  ; 
the  happiest,  laziest,  carelessest  fly  that  dances  and  dreams 
out  his  few  hours  of  sunshiny  life  by  English  rivers. 

Every  little  pitiful  coarse  fish  in  the  Avon  was  on  the 
alert  for  the  flies,  and  gorging  his  wretched  carcass  with 
hundreds  daily,  the  gluttonous  rogues  !  And  every  lover  of 
the  gentle  craft  was  out  to  avenge  the  poor  may-flies. 

So  one  fine  Thursday  afternoon,  Tom,  having  borrowed 
East's  new  rod,  started  by  himself  to  the  river.  He  fished 
for  some  time  with  small  success  :  not  a  fish  would  rise  at 
him  ;  but,  as  he  prowled  along  the  bank,  he  was  presently 
aware  of  mighty  ones  feeding  in  a  pool  on  the  opposite  side, 
under  the  shade  of  a  huge  willow-tree.  The  stream  was  deep 
here,  but  some  fifty  yards  below  was  a  shallow,  for  which 

[230] 


THE    RETURN    MATCH   WITH    VELVETEENS 

he  made  off  hot-foot ;  and  forgetting  landlords,  keepers, 
solemn  prohibitions  of  the  Doctor,  and  everything  else,  pulled 
up  his  trousers,  plunged  across,  and  in  three  minutes  was 
creeping  along  on  all-fours  towards  the  clump  of  willows. 

It  is  n't  often  that  great  chub,  or  any  other  coarse  fish, 
are  in  earnest  about  anything,  but  just  then  they  were  thor- 
oughly bent  on  feeding,  and  in  half  an  hour  Master  Tom 
had  deposited  three  thumping  fellows  at  the  foot  of  the 
giant  willow.  As  he  was  baiting  for  a  fourth  pounder,  and 
just  going  to  throw  in  again,  he  became  aware  of  a  man 
coming  up  the  bank  not  one  hundred  yards  off.  Another 
look  told  him  that  it  was  the  under-keeper.  Could  he  reach 
the  shallow  before  him  .?  No,  not  carrying  his  rod.  Noth- 
ing for  it  but  the  tree,  so  Tom  laid  his  bones  to  it,  shinning 
up  as  fast  as  he  could,  and  dragging  up  his  rod  after  him. 
He  had  just  time  to  reach  and  crouch  along  upon  a  huge 
branch  some  ten  feet  up,  which  stretched  out  over  the  river, 
when  the  keeper  arrived  at  the  clump.  Tom's  heart  beat 
fast  as  he  came  under  the  tree  ;  two  steps  more  and  he 
would  have  passed,  when,  as  ill-luck  would  have  it,  the 
gleam  on  the  scales  of  the  dead  fish  caught  his  eye,  and 
he  made  a  dead  point  at  the  foot  of  the  tree.  He  picked 
up  the  fish  one  by  one  ;  his  eye  and  touch  told  him  that 
they  had  been  alive  and  feeding  within  the  hour.  Tom 
crouched  lower  along  the  branch,  and  heard  the  keeper 
beating  the  clump.  '  If  I  could  only  get  the  rod  hidden,' 
thought  he,  and  began  gently  shifting  it  to  get  it  alongside 
him  ;  '  willow-trees  don't  throw  out  straight  hickory  shoots 
twelve  feet  long,  with  no  leaves,  worse  luck.'  Alas !  the 
keeper  catches  the  rustle,  and  then  a  sight  of  the  rod,  and 
then  of  Tom's  hand  and  arm. 

[231  ] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

*  Oh,  be  up  ther'  be  'ee  ? '  says  he,  running  under  the 
tree.    '  Now  you  come  down  this  minute.' 

'  Tree'd  at  last,'  thinks  Tom,  making  no  answer,  and 
keeping  as  close  as  possible,  but  working  away  at  the  rod, 
which  he  takes  to  pieces :  '  I'm  in  for  it,  unless  I  can 
starve  him  out.'  And  then  he  begins  to  meditate  getting 
along  the  branch  for  a  plunge,  and  scramble  to  the  other 
side  ;  but  the  small  branches  are  so  thick,  and  the  opposite 
bank  so  difficult,  that  the  keeper  will  have  lots  of  time 
to  get  round  by  the  ford  before  he  can  get  out,  so  he 
gives  that  up.  And  now  he  hears  the  keeper  beginning 
to  scramble  up  the  trunk.  That  will  never  do ;  so  he 
scrambles  himself  back  to  where  his  branch  joins  the 
trunk,  and  stands  with  lifted  rod. 

'  Hullo,  Velveteens,  mind  your  fingers  if  you  come 
any  higher.' 

The  keeper  stops  and  looks  up,  and  then  with  a  grin 
says,  '  Oh !  be  you,  be  it,  young  measter  ?  Well,  here 's 
luck.  Now  I  tells  'ee  to  come  down  at  once,  and  't  '11 
be  best  for  'ee.' 

'Thank  'ee,  Velveteens,  I'm  very  comfortable,'  said  Tom, 
shortening  the  rod  in  his  hand,  and  preparing  for  battle. 

'  Werry  well,  please  yourself, '  says  the  keeper,  descend- 
ing, however,  to  the  ground  again,  and  taking  his  seat  on 
the  bank ;  '  I  bean't  in  no  hurry,  so  you  may  take  your 
time.  I  '11  larn  'ee  to  gee  honest  folk  names  afore  I  've 
done  with  'ee.' 

'My  luck  as  usual,'  thinks  Tom;  'what  a  fool  I  was 
to  give  him  a  black.  If  I'd  called  him  "keeper"  now,  I 
might  get  off.     The  return  match  is  all  his  way.'  ' 

The  keeper  quietly  proceeded  to  take  out  his  pipe,  fill, 

[232] 


\,  ^ 


'NOW   YOU   COME    DOWN   THIS    MINUTE 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

and  light  it,  keeping  an  eye  on  Tom,  who  now  sat  dis- 
consolately across  the  branch,  looking  at  keeper  —  a  pitiful 
sight  for  men  and  fishes.  The  more  he  thought  of  it  the 
less  he  liked  it.  '  It  must  be  getting  near  second  calling- 
over,'  thinks  he.  Keeper  smokes  on  stolidly.  '  If  he  takes 
me  up,  I  shall  be  flogged  safe  enough.  I  can't  sit  here 
all  night.    Wonder  if  he  '11  rise  at  silver. 

'  I  say,  keeper,'  said  he  meekly,  *  let  me  go  for  two  bob  ? ' 

'Not  for  twenty  neither,'  grunts  his  persecutor. 

And  so  they  sat  on  till  long  past  second  calling-over, 
and  the  sun  came  slanting  in  through  the  willow-branches, 
and  telling  of  locking-up  near  at  hand. 

'I'm  coming  down,  keeper,'  said  Tom  at  last  with  a 
sigh,  fairly  tired  out.     '  Now  what  are  you  going  to  do  .? ' 

'  Walk  'ee  up  to  School,  and  give  'ee  over  to  the 
Doctor ;  them 's  my  orders,'  says  Velveteens,  knocking 
the  ashes  out  of  his  fourth  pipe,  and  standing  up  and 
shaking  himself. 

'Very  good,'  said  Tom;  'but  hands  off,  you  know.  I  '11 
go  with  you  quietly,  so  no  collaring  or  that  sort  of  thing.' 

Keeper  looked  at  him  a  minute  — '  Werry  good,'  said 
he  at  last ;  and  so  Tom  descended,  and  wended  his  way 
drearily  by  the  side  of  the  keeper  up  to  the  School-house, 
where  they  arrived  just  at  lockirtg-up.  As  they  passed 
the  School-gates,  the  Tadpole  and  several  others  who  were 
standing  there,  caught  the  state  of  things,  and  rushed  out, 
crying  '  Rescue  !  '  but  Tom  shook  his  head,  so  they  only 
followed  to  the  Doctor's  gate,  and  went  back  sorely  puzzled. 

How  changed  and  stern  the  Doctor  seemed  from  the 
last  time  that  Tom  was  up  there,  as  the  keeper  told  the 
story,    not    omitting    to    state    how    Tom    had    called    him 

[234] 


VELVETEENS'    REVENGE 

blackguard  names!  'Indeed,  sir,'  broke  in  the  culprit,  'it 
was  only  Velveteens.'    The  Doctor  only  asked  one  question. 

'  You  know  the  rule  about  the  banks.  Brown  ? ' 

'Yes,  sir.' 

'Then  wait  for  me  to-morrow,  after  first  lesson.' 

'  I  thought  so,'  muttered  Tom. 

*  And  about  the  rod,  sir  .?  '  went  on  the  keeper  ;  '  Master  's 
told  we  as  we  might  have  all  the  rods — ' 

'Oh,  please,  sir,'  broke  in  Tom,  'the  rod  isn't  mine.' 
The  Doctor  looked  puzzled,  but  the  keeper,  who  was  a 
good-hearted  fellow,  and  melted  at  Tom's  evident  distress, 
gave  up  his  claim.  Tom  was  flogged  next  morning,  and  a 
few  days  afterwards  met  Velveteens,  and  presented  him  with 
half  a  crown  for  giving  up  the  rod  claim,  and  they  became 
sworn  friends ;  and  I  regret  to  say  that  Tom  had  many 
more  fish  under  the  willow  that  may-fly  season,  and  was 
never  caught  again  by  Velveteens. 

It  was  n't  three  weeks  before  Tom,  and  now  East  by 
his  side,  were  again  in  the  awful  presence.  This  time, 
however,  the  Doctor  was  not  so  terrible.  A  few  days 
before  they  had  been  fagged  at  fives  to  fetch  the  balls  that 
went  off  the  Court.  While  standing  watching  the  game, 
they  saw  five  or  six  nearly  new  balls  hit  on  the  top  of  the 
school.  '  I  say,  Tom,'  said  East,  when  they  were  dismissed, 
'  could  n't  we  get  those  balls  somehow  ? ' 

'  Let 's  try,  anyhow.' 

So  they  reconnoitred  the  walls  carefully,  borrowed  a 
coal-hammer  from  old  Stumps,  bought  some  big  nails,  and 
after  one  or  two  attempts  scaled  the  schools,  and  possessed 
themselves  of  huge  quantities  of  fives-balls.  The  place 
pleased  them  so  much  that  they  spent  all  their  spare  time 

[235] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

there,  scratching  and  cutting  their  names  on  the  top  of 
every  tower ;  and  at  last,  having  exhausted  all  other  places, 
finished  up  with  inscribing  H,  East,  T.  Brown,  on  the 
minute-hand  of  the  great  clock,  in  the  doing  of  which  they 
held  the  minute-hand,  and  disturbed  the  clock's  economy. 
So  next  morning,  when  masters  and  boys  came  trooping 
down  to  prayers,  and  entered  the  quadrangle,  the  injured 
minute  hand  was  indicating  three  minutes  to  the  hour. 
They  all  pulled  up,  and  took  their  time.  When  the  hour 
struck,  doors  were  closed,  and  half  the  school  late.  Thomas 
being  set  to  make  inquiry,  discovers  their  names  on  the 
minute-hand,  and  reports  accordingly ;  and  they  are  sent 
for,  a  knot  of  their  friends  making  derisive  and  pantomimic 
allusions  to  what  their  fate  will  be,  as  they  walk  off. 

But  the  Doctor,  after  hearing  their  story,  doesn't  make 
much  of  it,  and  only  gives  them  thirty  lines  of  Homer  to 
learn  by  heart,  and  a  lecture  on  the  likelihood  of  such 
exploits  ending  in  broken  bones. 

Alas !  almost  the  next  day  was  one  of  the  great  fairs 
in  the  town  ;  and  as  several  rows  and  other  disagreeable 
accidents  had  of  late  taken  place  on  these  occasions,  the 
Doctor  gives  out,  after  prayers  in  the  morning,  that  no 
boy  is  to  go  down  into  the  town.  Wherefore  East  and 
Tom,  for  no  earthly  pleasure  except  that  of  doing  what 
they  are  told  not  to  do,  start  away,  after  second  lesson, 
and  making  a  short  circuit  through  the  fields,  strike  a 
back  lane  which  leads  into  the  town,  go  down  it,  and  run 
plump  upon  one  of  the  masters  as  they  emerge  into  the 
High  Street.  The  master  in  question,  though  a  very 
clever,  is  not  a  righteous  man  :  he  has  already  caught 
several  of  his  own  pupils,  and  gives  them  lines  to  learn, 

[  -^36  ] 


MORE    SCRAPES 


while  he  sends  East  and  Tom,  who  are  not  his  pupils,  up 
to  the  Doctor ;  who,  on  learning  that  they  had  been  at 
prayers  in  the  morning,  flogs  them  soundly. 

The  flogging  did  them  no  good  at  the  time,  for  the  in- 
justice of  their  captor  was  rankling  in  their  minds  ;  but  it 
was  just  the  end  of  the  half,  and  on  the  next  evening 
but  one  Thomas  knocks  at 
their  door,  and  says  the. 
Doctor  wants  to  see  them. 
They  look  at  one  another 
in  silent  dismay.  What  can 
it  be  now  .''  Which  of  their 
countless  wrong-doings  can 
he  have  heard  of  officially  ? 
However,  it 's  no  use  delay- 
ing, so  up  they  go  to  the 
study.  There  they  find  the 
Doctor,  not  angry,  but  very 
grave.  '  He  has  sent  for 
them  to  speak  very  seriously 
before  they  go  home.  They 
have  each  been  flogged 
several  times  in  the  half- 
year   for   direct  and   wilful 

breaches  of  rules.  This  cannot  go  on.  They  are  doing  no 
good  to  themselves  or  others,  and  now  they  are  getting  up 
in  the  School,  and  have  influence.  They  seem  to  think  that 
rules  are  made  capriciously,  and  for  the  pleasure  of  the 
masters  ;  but  this  is  not  so  :  they  are  made  for  the  good  of 
the  whole  School,  and  must  and  shall  be  obeyed.  Those 
who  thoughtlessly  or  wilfully  break  them  will  not  be  allowed 

[237] 


^■^^'' 


"-^■^^^^^3 


'^ik 


THE    BIRCHING   TURRET   DOOR 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

to  stay  at  the  School,  He  should  be  sorry  if  they  had  to 
leave,  as  the  School  might  do  them  both  much  good,  and 
wishes  them  to  think  very  seriously  in  the  holidays  over 
what  he  has  said.    Good  night.' 

And  so  the  two  hurry  off  horribly  scared  :  the  idea  of 
having  to  leave  has  never  crossed  their  minds,  and  is  quite 
unbearable. 

As  they  go  out,  they  meet  at  the  door  old  Holmes,  a 
sturdy,  cheery  praepostor  of  another  house,  who  goes  in  to 
the  Doctor ;  and  they  hear  his  genial,  hearty  greeting  of 
the  new-comer,  so  different  to  their  own  reception,  as  the 
door  closes,  and  return  to  their  study  with  heavy  hearts, 
and  tremendous  resolves  to  break  no  more  rules. 

Five  minutes  afterwards  the  master  of  their  form,  a  late 
arrival  and  a  model  young  master,  knocks  at  the  Doctor's 
study-door.  '  Come  in  ! '  and  as  he  enters  the  Doctor  goes 
on  to  Holmes  — '  you  see  I  do  not  know  anything  of  the 
case  officially,  and  if  I  take  any  notice  of  it  at  all,  I  must 
publicly  expel  the  boy.  I  don't  wish  to  do  that,  for  I  think 
there  is  some  good  in  him.  There  's  nothing  for  it  but  a 
good  sound  thrashing.'  He  paused  to  shake  hands  with  the 
master,  which  Holmes  does  also,  and  then  prepares  to  leave. 

'  I  understand.    Good  night,  sir.' 

'  Good  night,  Holmes.  And  remember,'  added  the  Doctor, 
emphasizing  the  words,  '  a  good  sound  thrashing  before  the 
whole  house.' 

The  door  closed  on  Holmes ;  and  the  Doctor,  in  answer 
to  the  puzzled  look  of  his  lieutenant,  explained  shortly.  'A 
gross  case  of  bullying,  Wharton,  the  head  of  the  house, 
is  a  very  good  fellow,  but  slight  and  weak,  and  severe 
physical  pain  is  the  only  way  to  deal  with  such  a  case ;   so 

[238] 


THE    DOCTOR    REIGNING 

I  have  asked  Holmes  to  take  it  up.  He  is  very  careful 
and  trustworthy,  and  has  plenty  of  strength.  I  wish  all 
the  sixth  had  as  much.  We  must  have  it  here,  if  we  are 
to  keep  order  at  all.' 

Now  I  don't  want  any  wiseacres  to  read  this  book  ;  but 
if  they  should,  of  course  they  will  prick  up  their  long  ears, 
and  howl,  or  rather  bray,  at  the  above  story.  Very  good,  I 
don't  object ;  but  what  I  have  to  add  for  you  boys  is  this, 
that  Holmes  called  a  le\y  of  his  house  after  breakfast  next 
morning,  made  them  a  speech  on  the  case  of  bullying  in 
question,  and  then  gave  the  bully  a  '  good  sound  thrashing ' ; 
and  that  years  afterwards,  that  boy  sought  out  Holmes,  and 
thanked  him,  saying  it  had  been  the  kindest  act  which  had 
ever  been  done  upon  him,  and  the  turning-point  in  his 
character ;  and  a  very  good  fellow  he  became,  and  a  credit 
to  his  School. 

After  some  other  talk  between  them,  the  Doctor  said, 
'  I  want  to  speak  to  you  about  two  boys  in  your  form.  East 
and  Brown  :  I  have  just  been  speaking  to  them.  What  do 
you  think  of  them  ?  ' 

'Well,  they  are  not  hard  workers,  and  very  thoughtless, 
and  full  of  spirits  —  but  I  can't  help  liking  them.  I  think 
they  are  sound  good  fellows  at  the  bottom.' 

'I'm  glad  of  it.  I  think  so  too.  But  they  make  me  very 
uneasy.  They  are  taking  the  lead  a  good  deal  amongst  the 
fags  in  my  house,  for  they  are  very  active,  bold  fellows.  I 
should  be  sorry  to  lose  them,  but  I  shan't  let  them  stay  if 
I  don't  see  them  gaining  character  and  manliness.  In  an- 
other year  they  may  do  great  harm  to  all  the  younger  boys.' 

'Oh,  I  hope  you  won't  send  them  away,'  pleaded  their 
master. 

[239] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

*  Not  if  I  can  help  it.  But  now  I  never  feel  sure,  after 
any  half-holiday,  that  I  shan't  have  to  flog  one  of  them 
next  morning,  for  some  foolish,  thoughtless  scrape.  I  quite 
dread  seeing  either  of  them.' 

They  were  both  silent  for  a  minute.  Presently  the  Doctor 
began  again  : 

'  They  don't  feel  that  they  have  any  duty  or  work  to  do 
in  the  School,  and  how  is  one  to  make  them  feel  it .-' ' 

'  I  think  if  either  of  them  had  some  little  boy  to  take 
care  of,  it  would  steady  them.  Brown  is  the  most  reckless 
of  the  two,  I  should  say  ;  East  would  n't  get  into  so  many 
scrapes  without  him.' 

'Well,'  said  the  Doctor,  with  something  like  a  sigh,  *  I  '11 
think  of  it.'    And  they  went  on  to  talk  of  other  subjects. 


[240] 


Vo  one  cfear  fmxp  In  cfiverj  tones,        I 
"Dfia-t  mer)  mo-xj  rLse  on  stepfiiTL^-storves 
Of  ffteCr  cfead  sefhej  to  /^<^/ier  f/?m^x.' 

c/ennysori 


'  Once  to  every  man  and  nation,  comes  the  moment  to  decide. 
In  the  strife  of  Truth  with  Falsehood,  for  the  good  or  evil  side : 
******* 

Then  it  is  the  brave  man  chooses,  zvhile  the  cozvard  stands  aside. 
Doubting  in  his  abject  spirit,  till  his  Lord  is  crucified.^ 

Lowell 

HE  turning-point  in  our  hero's  school 
career  had  now  come,  and  the  manner 
of  it  was  as  follows.  On  the  evening  of 
the  first  day  of  the  next  half-year,  Tom, 
East,  and  another  School-house  boy,  who 
had  just  been  dropped  at  the  Spread 
Eagle  by  the  old  Regulator,  rushed  into  the  matron's  room 
in  high  spirits,  such  as  all  real  boys  are  in  when  they  first 
get  back,  however  fond  they  may  be  of  home. 

'Well,  Mrs,  Wixie,'  shouted  one,  seizing  on  the  method- 
ical, active  little,  dark-eyed  woman,  who  was  busy  stowing 

[241  ] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

away  the  linen  of  the  boys  who  had  already  arrived  into 
their  several  pigeon-holes,  '  here  we  are  again,  you  see,  as 
jolly  as  ever.    Let  us  help  you  put  the  things  away.' 

'And,  Mary,'  cried  another  (she  was  called  indifferently 
by  either  name),  '  who 's  come  back  ?  Has  the  Doctor 
made  old  Jones  leave  ?     How  many  new  boys  are  there .'' ' 

'  Am  I  and  East  to  have  Gray's  study  ?  You  know  you 
promised  to  get  it  for  us  if  you  could,'  shouted  Tom. 

'  And  am  I  to  sleep  in  Number  4  ? '  roared  East. 

*  How  's  old  Sam,  and  Bogle,  and  Sally  } ' 

'  Bless  the  boys  !  '  cries  Mary,  at  last  getting  in  a  word, 
'  why,  you  '11  shake  me  to  death.  There,  now  do  go  away 
up  to  the  housekeeper's  room  and  get  your  suppers  ;  you 
know  I  haven't  time  to  talk  —  you'll  find  plenty  more  in 
the  house.  Now,  Master  East,  do  let  those  things  alone  — 
you  're  mixing  up  three  new  boys'  things.'  And  she  rushed 
at  East,  who  escaped  round  the  open  trunks  holding  up 
a  prize. 

'Hullo,  look  here,  Tommy,'  shouted  he,  'here's  fun!' 
and  he  brandished  above  his  head  some  pretty  little  night- 
caps, beautifully  made  and  marked,  the  work  of  loving 
fingers  in  some  distant  country  home.  The  kind  mother 
and  sisters,  who  sewed  that  delicate  stitching  with  aching 
hearts,  little  thought  of  the  trouble  they  might  be  bringing 
on  the  young  head  for  which  they  were  meant.  The  little 
matron  was  wiser,  and  snatched  the  caps  from  East  before 
he  could  look  at  the  name  on  them. 

'  Now,  Master  East,  I  shall  be  very  angry  if  you  don't 
go,'  said  she;  'there's  some  capital  cold  beef  and  pickles 
upstairs,  and  I  won't  have  you  old  boys  in  my  room  first 
nisht.' 

[  242  ] 


^t>' 


-fcjJKt!vu/»irvi 


HULLO,    LOOK    HERE,    TO  M  M  Y,  .  .  .  H  E  R  E  'S    FUN!' 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

'  Hurrah  for  the  pickles  !  Come  along,  Tommy  ;  come 
along,  Smith.  We  shall  find  out  who  the  young  Count  is, 
I  '11  be  bourid  :  I  hope  he  '11  sleep  in  my  room.  Mary  's 
always  vicious  first  week.' 

As  the  boys  turned  to  leave  the  room,  the  matron  touched 
Tom's  arm,  and  said,  '  Master  Brown,  please  stop  a  minute, 
I  want  to  speak  to  you.' 

*  Very  well,  Mary.  I  '11  come  in  a  minute,  East ;  don't 
finish  the  pickles  — ' 

'  Oh,  Master  Brown,'  went  on  the  little  matron,  when  the 
rest  had  gone,  '  you  're  to  have  Gray's  study,  Mrs.  Arnold 
says.  And  she  wants  you  to  take  in  this  young  gentleman. 
He  's  a  new  boy,  and  thirteen  years  old,  though  he  don't 
look  it.  He  's  very  delicate,  and  has  never  been  from  home 
before.  And  I  told  Mrs.  Arnold  I  thought  you  'd  be  kind 
to  him,  and  see  that  they  don't  bully  him  at  first.  He  's 
put  into  your  form,  and  I  've  given  him  the  bed  next  to 
yours  in  Number  4  ;  so  East  can't  sleep  there  this  half.' 

Tom  was  rather  put  about  by  this  speech.  He  had  got 
the  double  study  which  he  coveted,  but  here  were  condi- 
tions attached  which  greatly  moderated  his  joy.  He  looked 
across  the  room,  and  in  the  far  corner  of  the  sofa  was  aware 
of  a  slight  pale  boy,  with  large  blue  eyes  and  light  fair  hair, 
who  seemed  ready  to  shrink  through  the  floor.  He  saw  at 
a  glance  that  the  little  stranger  was  just  the  boy  whose  first 
half-year  at  a  public  school  would  be  misery  to  himself  if  he 
were  left  alone,  or  constant  anxiety  to  any  one  who  meant 
to  see  him  through  his  troubles.  Tom  was  too  honest  to 
take  in  the  youngster  and  then  let  him  shift  for  himself ; 
and  if  he  took  him  as  his  chum  instead  of  East,  where 
were  all  his  pet  plans  of  having  a  bottled-beer  cellar  under 

[244] 


THE    SADDLE    IS    PUT    ON    TOM 

his  window,  and  making  night-lines  and  sHngs,  and  plotting 
expeditions  to  Brownsover  Mills  and  Caldecott's  Spinney  ? 
East  and  he  had  made  up  their  minds  to  get  this  study, 
and  then  every  night  from  locking-up  till  ten  they  would 
be  together  to  talk  about  fishing,  drink  bottled  beer,  read 
Marryat's  novels,  and  sort  birds'  eggs.  And  this  new  boy 
would  most  likely  never  go  out  of  the  close,  and  would  be 
afraid  of  wet  feet,  and  always  getting  laughed  at,  and  called 
Molly,  or  Jenny,  or  some  derogatory  feminine  nick-name. 

The  matron  watched  him  for  a  moment,  and  saw  what 
was  passing  in  his  mind,  and  so,  like  a  wise  negotiator, 
threw  in  an  appeal  to  his  warm  heart.  '  Poor  little  fellow,' 
said  she  in  almost  a  whisper,  '  his  father  's  dead,  and  he  's 
got  no  brothers.  And  his  mamma,  such  a  kind  sweet 
lady,  almost  broke  her  heart  at  leaving  him  this  morning ; 
and  she  said  one  of  his  sisters  was  like  to  die  of  decline, 
and  so  —  ' 

'Well,  well,'  burst  in  Tom,  with  something  like  a  sigh  at 
the  effort,  '  I  suppose  I  must  give  up  East.  Come  along, 
young  un.  What's  your  name.?  We'll  go  and  have  some 
supper,  and  then  I  '11  show  you  our  study.' 

'  His  name  's  George  Arthur,'  said  the  matron,  walking 
up  to  him  with  Tom,  who  grasped  his  little  delicate  hand 
as  the  proper  preliminary  to  making  a  chum  of  him,  and 
felt  as  if  he  could  have  blown  him  away.  '  I  've  had  his 
books  and  things  put  into  the  study,  which  his  mamma  has 
had  new  papered,  and  the  sofa  covered,  and  new  green- 
baize  curtains  over  the  door '  (the  diplomatic  matron  threw 
this  in,  to  show  that  the  new  boy  was  contributing  largely 
to  the  partnership  comforts).  'And  Mrs.  Arnold  told  mc  to 
say,'  she  added,  'that  she  should  like  you  both  to  come  up 

[245] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

to  tea  with  her.    You  know  the  way,  Master  Brown,  and 
the  things  are  just  gone  up,  I  know.' 

Here  was  an  announcement  for  Master  Tom  !  He  was 
to  go  up  to  tea  the  first  night,  just  as  if  he  were  a  sixth- 
or  fifth-form  boy,  and  of  importance  in  the  school  world, 
instead  of  the  most  reckless  young  scapegrace  amongst  the 
fags.  He  felt  himself  lifted  on  to  a  higher  social  and  moral 
platform  at  once.  Nevertheless,  he  could  n't  give  up  with- 
out a  sigh  the  idea  of  the  jolly  supper  in  the  housekeeper's 
room  with  East  and  the  rest,  and  a  rush  round  to  all  the 
studies  of  his  friends  afterwards,  to  pour  out  the  deeds  and 
wonders  of  the  holidays,  to  plot  fifty  plans  for  the  coming 
half-year,  and  to  gather  news  of  who  had  left,  and  what 
new  boys  had  come,  who  had  got  who's  study,  and  where 
the  new  praepostors  slept.  However,  Tom  consoled  himself 
with  thinking  that  he  couldn't  have  done  all  this  with  the 
new  boy  at  his  heels,  and  so  marched  off  along  the  pas- 
sages to  the  Doctor's  private  house  with  his  young  charge 
in  tow,  in  monstrous  good-humour  with  himself  and  all 
the  world. 

It  is  needless,  and  would  be  impertinent,  to  tell  how 
the  two  young  boys  were  received  in  that  drawing-room. 
The  lady  who  presided  there  is  still  living,  and  has  carried 
with  her  to  her  peaceful  home  in  the  North  the  respect  and 
love  of  all  those  who  ever  felt  and  shared  that  gentle  and 
high-bred  hospitality.  Aye,  many  is  the  brave  heart  now 
doing  its  work  and  bearing  its  load  in  country  curacies, 
London  chambers,  under  the  Indian  sun,  and  in  Australian 
towns  and  clearings,  which  looks  back  with  fond  and  grateful 
memory'  to  that  School-house  drawing-room,  and  dates  much 
of  its  highest  and  best  training  to  the  lessons  learnt  there. 

[246] 


TEA   WITH    THE    DOCTOR 

Besides  Mrs.  Arnold  and  one  or  two  of  the  elder  children, 
there  were  one  of  the  younger  masters,  young  Brooke,  who 
was  now  in  the  sixth,  and  had  succeeded  to  his  brother's 
position  and  influence,  and  another  sixth-form  boy  there, 
talking  together  before  the  fire.  The  master  and  young 
Brooke,  now  a  great  strapping  fellow  six  feet  high,  eighteen 
years  old,  and  powerful  as  a  coal-heaver,  nodded  kindly  to 
Tom,  to  his  intense  glory,  and  then  went  on  talking  ;  the 
other  did  not  notice  them.  The  hostess,  after  a  few  kind 
words,  which  led  the  boys  at  once  and  insensibly  to  feel  at 
their  ease,  and  to  begin  talking  to  one  another,  left  them 
with  her  own  children  while  she  finished  a  letter.  The 
young  ones  got  on  fast  and  well,  Tom  holding  forth  about 
a  prodigious  pony  he  had  been  riding  out  hunting,  and 
hearing  stories  of  the  winter  glories  of  the  lakes,  when  tea 
came  in,  and  immediately  after  the  Doctor  himself. 

How  frank,  and  kind,  and  manly,  was  his  greeting  to  the 
party  by  the  fire !  It  did  Tom's  heart  good  to  see  him  and 
young  Brooke  shake  hands,  and  look  one  another  in  the 
face;  and  he  didn't  fail  to  remark  that  Brooke  was  nearly 
as  tall,  and  quite  as  broad  as  the  Doctor.  And  his  cup  was 
full,  when  in  another  moment  his  master  turned  to  him 
with  another  warm  shake  of  the  hand,  and,  seemingly  obliv- 
ious of  all  the  late  scrapes  which  he  had  been  getting  into, 
said,  '  Ah,  Brown,  you  here  !  I  hope  you  left  your  father 
and  all  well  at  home  ? ' 

'  Yes,  sir,  quite  well.' 

'And  this  is  the  little  fellow  who  is  to  share  your  study. 
Well,  he  doesn't  look  as  we  should  Hke  to  see  him. 
He  wants  some  Rugby  air,  and  cricket.  And  you  must 
take   him   some   good   long  walks,   to  Bilton   Grange,  and 

[247] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

Caldecott's    Spinney,    and    show  him  what   a   Httle    pretty 
country  we  have  about  here.' 

Tom  wondered  if  the  Doctor  knew  that  his  visits  to  Bil- 
ton  Grange  were  for  the  purpose  of  taking  rooks'  nests  (a 
proceeding  strongly  discountenanced  by  the  owner  thereof), 
and  those  to  Caldecott's  Spinney  were  prompted  chiefly  by 
the  conveniences  for  setting  night-lines.  What  did  n't  the 
Doctor  know  ?  And  what  a  noble  use  he  always  made  of  it ! 
He  almost  resolved  to  abjure  rook-pies  and  night-lines  for 
ever.  The  tea  went  merrily  off,  the  Doctor  now  talking  of 
holiday  doings,  and  then  of  the  prospects  of  the  half-year, 
what  chance  there  was  for  the  Balliol  scholarship,  whether 
the  eleven  would  be  a  good  one.  Everybody  was  at  his 
ease,  and  ever)^body  felt  that  he,  young  as  he  might  be,  was 
of  some  use  in  the  little  School  world,  and  had  a  work  to 
do  there. 

Soon  after  tea  the  Doctor  went  off  to  his  study,  and  the 
young  boys  a  few  minutes  afterwards  took  their  leave,  and 
went  out  of  the  private  door  which  led  from  the  Doctor's 
house  into  the  middle  passage. 

At  the  fire,  at  the  further  end  of  the  passage,  was  a 
crowd  of  boys  in  loud  talk  and  laughter.  There  was  a 
sudden  pause  when  the  door  opened,  and  then  a  great 
shout  of  greeting,  as  Tom  was  recognized  marching  down 
the  passage. 

*  Hullo,  Brown,  where  do  you  come  from  ? ' 

•Oh,  I  've  been  to  tea  with  the  Doctor,'  says  Tom,  with 
great  dignity. 

'  My  eye  !  '  cried  East.  '  Oh  !  so  that 's  why  Mary  called 
you  back,  and  you  did  n't  come  to  supper.  You  lost  some- 
thing—  that  beef  and  pickles  was  no  end  good.' 

[248] 


ARTHUR'S    DEBUT 

'  I  say,  young  fellow,'  cried  Hall,  detecting  Arthur,  and 
catching  him  by  the  collar,  '  what 's  your  name  ?  Where  do 
you  come  from  ?    How  old  are  you  ? 

Tom  saw  Arthur  shrink  back,  and  look  scared  as  all  the 
group  turned  to  him,  but  thought  it  best  to  let  him  answer, 
just  standing  by  his  side  to  support  in  case  of  need, 

'  Arthur,  sir.    I  come  from  Devonshire.' 

'  Don't  call  me  "sir,"  you  young  muff.   How  old  are  you.^ ' 

'Thirteen.' 

'  Can  you  sing  } ' 

The  poor  boy  was  trembling  and  hesitating.  Tom  struck 
in  —  'You  be  hanged.  Tadpole.  He  '11  have  to  sing,  whether 
he  can  or  not,  Saturday  twelve  weeks,  and  that 's  long 
enough  off  yet.' 

'  Do  you  know  him  at  home.  Brown  ? ' 

'  No  ;  but  he  's  my  chum  in  Gray's  old  study,  and  it 's 
near  prayer  time,  and  I  have  n't  had  a  look  at  it  yet.  Come 
along,  Arthur.' 

Away  went  the  two,  Tom  longing  to  get  his  charge  safe 
under  cover,  where  he  might  advise  him  on  his  deportment. 

'What  a  queer  chum  for  Tom  Brown,'  was  the  comment 
at  the  fire  ;  and  it  must  be  confessed  so  thought  Tom 
himself,  as  he  lighted  his  candle,  and  surveyed  the  new 
green-baize  curtains  and  the  carpet  and  sofa  with  much 
satisfaction. 

'  I  say,  Arthur,  what  a  brick  your  mother  is  to  make  us 
so  cosy.  But  look  here  now,  you  must  answer  straight  up 
when  the  fellows  speak  to  you,  and  don't  be  afraid.  If 
you  're  afraid,  you  '11  get  bullied.  And  don't  you  say  you 
can  sing ;  and  don't  you  ever  talk  about  home,  or  your 
mother  and  sisters.' 

[249] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

Poor  little  Arthur  looked  ready  to  cry. 

'  But  please,'  said  he,  '  mayn't  I  talk  about  —  about  home 
to  you  ? ' 

'  Oh,  yes,  I  like  it.  But  don't  talk  to  boys  you  don't 
know,  or  they  '11  call  you  homesick,  or  mamma's  darling,  or 
some  such  stuff.  What  a  jolly  desk  !  Is  that  yours  ?  And 
what  stunning  binding !  Why,  your  school-books  look  like 
novels.' 

And  Tom  was  soon  deep  in  Arthur's  goods  and  chattels, 
all  new,  and  good  enough  for  a  fifth-form  boy,  and  hardly 
thought  of  his  friends  outside  till  the  prayer-bell  rung. 

I  have  already  described  the  School-house  prayers  ;  they 
were  the  same  on  the  first  night  as  on  the  other  nights, 
save  for  the  gaps  caused  by  the  absence  of  those  boys  who 
came  late,  and  the  line  of  new  boys  who  stood  all  together 
at  the  further  table  —  of  all  sorts  and  sizes,  like  young 
bears  with  all  their  troubles  to  come,  as  Tom's  father  had 
said  to  him  when  he  was  in  the  same  position.  He  thought 
of  it  as  he  looked  at  the  line,  and  poor  little  slight  Arthur 
standing  with  them,  and  as  he  was  leading  him  upstairs  to 
Number  4,  directly  after  prayers,  and  showing  him  his  bed. 
It  was  a  huge,  high,  airy  room,  with  two  large  windows 
looking  on  to  the  School  close.  There  were  twelve  beds  in 
the  room,  the  one  in  the  furthest  corner  by  the  fireplace 
occupied  by  the  sixth-form  boy  who  was  responsible  for  the 
discipline  of  the  room,  and  the  rest  by  boys  in  the  lower- 
fifth  and  other  junior  forms,  all  fags  (for  the  fifth-form 
boys,  as  has  been  said,  slept  in  rooms  by  themselves). 
Being  fags,  the  eldest  of  them  was  not  more  than  about 
sixteen  years  old,  and  were  all  bound  to  be  up  and  in  bed 
by  ten  ;    the  sixth-form  boys  came  to  bed  from  ten  to  a 

[250] 


A    TRYING    MOMENT 

quarter-past  (at  which  time  the  old  verger  came  round  to 
put  the  candles  out),  except  when  they  sat  up  to  read. 

Within  a  few  minutes,  therefore,  of  their  entry,  all  the 
other  boys  who  slept  in  Number  4  had  come  up.  The 
little  fellows  went  quietly  to  their  own  beds,  and  began 
undressing  and  talking  to  each  other  in  whispers  ;  while 
the  elder,  amongst  whom  was  Tom,  sat  chatting  about  on 
one  another's  beds,  with  their  jackets  and  waistcoats  off. 
Poor  little  Arthur  was  overwhelmed  with  the  novelty  of  his 
position.  The  idea  of  sleeping  in  the  room  with  strange 
boys  had  clearly  never  crossed  his  mind  before,  and  was 
as  painful  as  it  was  strange  to  him.  He  could  hardly  bear 
to  take  his  jacket  off ;  however,  presently,  with  an  effort, 
off  it  came,  and  then  he  paused  and  looked  at  Tom,  who 
was  sitting  at  the  bottom  of  his  bed  talking  and  laughing. 

'Please,  Brown,'  he  whispered,  'may  I  wash  my  face 
and  hands  ? ' 

'Of  course,  if  you  like,'  said  Tom,  staring;  'that's  your 
washhand-stand,  under  the  window,  second  from  your  bed. 
You  '11  have  to  go  down  for  more  water  in  the  morning 
if  you  use  it  all.'  And  on  he  went  with  his  talk,  while 
Arthur  stole  timidly  from  between  the  beds  out  to  his 
washhand-stand,  and  began  his  ablutions,  thereby  drawing 
for  a  moment  on  himself  the  attention  of  the  room. 

On  went  the  talk  and  laughter.  Arthur  finished  his 
washing  and  undressing,  and  put  on  his  night-gown.  He 
then  looked  round  more  nervously  than  ever.  Two  or 
three  of  the  little  boys  were  already  in  bed,  sitting  up 
with  their  chins  on  their  knees.  The  light  burned  clear, 
the  noise  went  on.  It  was  a  trying  moment  foj;^the  poor 
little  lonely  boy ;    however,  this  time  he  did  n't  ask  Tom 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

what  he  might  or  might  not  do,  but  dropped  on  his  knees 
l)y  his  bedside,  as  he  had  done  every  day  from  his  child- 
hood, to  open  his  heart  to  Him  who  heareth  the  cry  and 
beareth  the  sorrows  of  the  tender  child,  and  the  strong 
man  in  agony. 

Tom  was  sitting  at  the  bottom  of  his  bed  unlacing  his 
boots,  so  that  his  back  was  towards  Arthur,  and  he  did  n't 
see  what  had  happened,  and  looked  up  in  wonder  at  the 
sudden  silence.  Then  two  or  three  boys  laughed  and 
sneered,  and  a  big  brutal  fellow,  who  was  standing  in  the 
middle  of  the  room,  picked  up  a  slipper,  and  shied  it  at 
the  kneeling  boy,  calling  him  a  snivelling  young  shaver. 
Then  Tom  saw  the  whole,  and  the  next  moment  the  boot 
he  had  just  pulled  off  flew  straight  at  the  head  of  the 
bully,  who  had  just  time  to  throw  up  his  arm  and  catch  it 
on  his  elbow. 

*  Confound  you.  Brown,  what 's  that  for  ? '  roared  he, 
stamping  with  pain. 

'  Never  mind  what  I  mean,'  said  Tom,  stepping  on  to 
the  floor,  every  drop  of  blood  in  his  body  tingling ;  '  if  any 
fellow  wants  the  other  boot,  he  knows  how  to  get  it.' 
'  What  would  have  been  the  result  is  doubtful,  for  at 
this  moment  the  sixth-form  boy  came  in,  and  not  another 
word  could  be  said.  Tom  and  the  rest  rushed  into  bed 
and  finished  their  unrobing  there,  and  the  old  verger,  as 
punctual  as  the  clock,  had  put  out  the  candle  in  another 
minute,  and  toddled  on  to  the  next  room,  shutting  their 
door  with  his  usual  '  Good  night,  genl'm'n.' 

There  were  many  boys  in  the  room  by  whom  that  little 
scene  was  taken  to  heart  before  they  slept.  But  sleep 
seemed   to   have   deserted    the   pillow   of  poor   Tom.    For 

[252] 


LESSON  NO.  1 


I 


'THE  BOOT  HE  HAD  JUST  PULLED  OFF  FLEW  STRAIGHT 
AT  THE  HEAD  OF  THE  BULLY' 


some  time  his  excitement,  and  the  flood  of  memories  which 
chased  one  another  through  his  brain,  kept  him  from  think- 
ing or  resolving.  His  head  tlirobbed,  his  heart  leapt,  and 
he  could  hardly  keep  himself  from  springing  out  of  bed 
and  rushing  about  the  room.    Then  the  thought  of  his  own 

[253] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

mother  came  across  him,  and  the  promise  he  had  made  at 
her  knee,  years  ago,  never  to  forget  to  kneel  by  his  bedside, 
and  give  himself  up  to  his  Father,  before  he  laid  his  head 
on  the  pillow,  from  which  he  might  never  rise  ;  and  he  lay 
down  gently  and  cried  as  if  his  heart  would  break.  He  was 
only  fourteen  years  old. 

It  was  no  light  act  of  courage  in  those  days,  my  dear 
boys,  for  a  little  fellow  to  say  his  prayers  publicly,  even  at 
Rugby.  A  few  years  later,  when  Arnold's  manly  piety  had 
begun  to  leaven  the  School,  the  tables  turned  ;  before  he 
died,  in  the  School-house  at  least,  and  I  believe  in  the  other 
houses,  the  rule  was  the  other  way.  But  poor  Tom  had 
come  to  school  in  other  times.  The  first  few  nights  after 
he  came  he  did  not  kneel  down  because  of  the  noise,  but 
sat  up  in  bed  till  the  candle  was  out,  and  then  stole  out 
and  said  his  prayers,  in  fear  lest  some  one  should  find  him 
out.  So  did  many  another  poor  little  fellow.  Then  he  began 
to  think  that  he  might  just  as  well  say  his  prayers  in  bed, 
and  then  that  it  didn't  matter  whether  he  was  kneeling,  or 
sitting,  or  lying  down.  And  so  it  had  come  to  pass  with 
Tom,  as  with  all  who  will  not  confess  their  Lord  before 
men  ;  and  for  the  last  year  he  had  probably  not  said  his 
prayers  in  earnest  a  dozen  times. 

Poor  Tom  !  the  first  and  bitterest  feeling  which  was  like 
to  break  his  heart  was  the  sense  of  his  own  cowardice.  The 
vice  of  all  others  which  he  loathed  was  brought  in  and 
burned  in  on  his  own  soul.  He  had  lied  to  his  mother,  to 
his  conscience,  to  his  God.  How  could  he  bear  it  ?  And  then 
the  poor  little  weak  boy,  whom  he  had  pitied  and  almost 
scorned  for  his  weakness,  had  done  that  which  he,  brag- 
gart as  he  was,  dared  not  do.    The  first  dawn  of  comfort 

[254] 


TOM    LEARNS    HIS    LESSON 

came  to  him  in  swearing  to  himself  that  he  would  stand 
by  that  boy  through  thick  and  thin,  and  cheer  him,  and 
help  him,  and  bear  his  burdens,  for  the  good  deed  done 
that  night.  Then  he  resolved  to  write  home  next  day  and 
tell  his  mother  all,  and  what  a  coward  her  son  had  been. 
And  then  peace  came  to  him  as  he  resolved,  lastly,  to  bear 
his  testimony  next  morning.  The  morning  would  be  harder 
than  the  night  to  begin  with,  but  he  felt  that  he  could  not 
afford  to  let  one  chance  slip.  Several  times  he  faltered,  for 
the  devil  showed  him  first,  all  his  old  friends  calling  him 
'Saint'  and  'Square-toes,'  and  a  dozen  hard  names,  and 
whispered  to  him  that  his  motives  would  be  misunderstood, 
and  he  would  only  be  left  alone  with  the  new  boy ;  whereas 
it  was  his  duty  to  keep  all  means  of  influence,  that  he  might 
do  good  to  the  largest  number.  And  then  came  the  more 
subtle  temptation,  '  Shall  I  not  be  showing  myself  braver 
than  others  by  doing  this  ?  Have  I  any  right  to  begin  it 
now  ?  Ought  I  not  rather  to  pray  in  my  own  study,  letting 
other  boys  know  that  I  do  so,  and  trying  to  lead  them  to 
it,  while  in  public  at  least  I  should  go  on  as  I  have  done  ? ' 
However,  his  good  angel  was  too  strong  that  night,  and  he 
turned  on  his  side  and  slept,  tired  of  trying  to  reason,  but 
resolved  to  follow  the  impulse  which  had  been  so  strong, 
and  in  which  he  had  found  peace. 

Next  morning  he  was  up  and  washed  and  dressed,  all  but 
his  jacket  and  waistcoat,  just  as  the  ten  minutes  bell  began 
to  ring,  and  then  in  the  face  of  the  whole  room  knelt  down 
to  pray.  Not  five  words  could  he  say  —  the  bell  mocked 
him  ;  he  was  listening  for  every  whisper  in  the  room  —  what 
were  they  all  thinking  of  him  ?  He  was  ashamed  to  go  on 
kneeling,  ashamed  to  rise  from  his  knees.    At  last,  as  it 

[255] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

were  from  his  inmost  heart,  a  still  small  voice  seemed  to 
breathe  forth  the  words  of  the  publican,  '  God  be  merciful 
to  me  a  sinner ! '  He  repeated  them  over  and  over,  cling- 
ing to  them  as  for  his  life,  and  rose  from  his  knees  com- 
forted and  humbled,  and  ready  to  face  the  whole  world.  It 
was  not  needed  :  two  other  boys  besides  Arthur  had  already 
followed  his  example,  and  he  went  down  to  the  great  School 
with  a  glimmering  of  another  lesson  in  his  heart  —  the  les- 
son that  he  who  has  conquered  his  own  coward  spirit  has 
conquered  the  whole  outward  world  ;  and  that  other  one  which 
the  old  prophet  learnt  in  the  cave  in  Mount  Horeb,  when 
he  hid  his  face  and  the  still  small  voice  asked,  *  What  doest 
thou  here,  Elijah  ? '  that  however  we  may  fancy  ourselves 
alone  on  the  side  of  good,  the  King  and  Lord  of  men  is 
nowhere  without  His  witnesses ;  for  in  every  society,  how- 
ever seemingly  corrupt  and  Godless,  there  are  those  who 
have  not  bowed  the  knee  to  Baal, 

He  found,  too,  how  greatly  he  had  exaggerated  the  effect 
to  be  produced  by  his  act.  For  a  few  nights  there  was  a 
sneer  or  a  laugh  when  he  knelt  down,  but  this  passed  off 
soon,  and  one  by  one  all  the  other  boys  but  three  or  four 
followed  the  lead.  I  fear  that  this  was  in  some  measure 
owing  to  the  fact  that  Tom  could  probably  have  thrashed  any 
boy  in  the  room  except  the  praepostor ;  at  any  rate,  every 
boy  knew  that  he  would  try  upon  very  slight  provocation, 
and  didn't  choose  to  iTin  the  risk  of  a  hard  fight  because 
Tom  Brown  had  taken  a  fancy  to  say  his  prayers.  Some  of 
the  small  boys  of  Number  4  communicated  the  new  state  of 
things  to  their  chums,  and  in  several  other  rooms  the  poor 
little  fellows  tried  it  on  ;  in  one  instance  or  so,  where  the 
praepostor  heard  of  it  and  interfered  very  decidedly,  with 

[256] 


THE    L  I  1!  R  A  R  Y 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

partial  success  ;  but  in  the  rest,  after  a  short  struggle,  the 
confessors  were  bullied  or  laughed  down,  and  the  old  state 
of  things  went  on  for  some  time  longer.  Before  either  Tom 
Brown  or  Arthur  left  the  School-house  there  was  no  room 
in  which  it  had  not  become  the  regular  custom.  I  trust 
it  is  so  still,  and  that  the  old  heathen  state  of  things  has 
gone  out  for  ever. 


[258] 


s^ 


ChapferM 


QJWW 


'  And  Heave7i' s  rich  instincts  in  him  grezv 
As  effortless  as  zcoodland  nooks 
Send  violets  up  and  paint  them  blue. ' 

Lowell 

DO  NOT  mean  to  recount  all  the  little 
troubles  and  annoyances  which  thronged 
upon  Tom  at  the  beginning  of  this  half- 
year,  in  this  new  character  of  bear-leader 
to  a  gentle  little  boy  straight  from  home. 
He  seemed  to  himself  to  have  become  a 
new  boy  again,  without  any  of  the  long-suffering  and 
meekness  indispensable  for  supporting  that  character  with 
moderate  success.  From  morning  till  night  he  had  the 
feeling  of  responsibility  on  his  mind  ;  and  even  if  he  left 
Arthur  in  their  study  or  in  the  close  for  an  hour,  was 
never  at  ease  till  he  had  him  in  sight  again.     He  waited 

[259] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

for  him  at  the  doors  of  the  school  after  every  lesson  and 
every  calling-over ;  watched  that  no  tricks  were  played  him, 
and  none  but  the  regulation  questions  asked ;  kept  his 
eye  on  his  plate  at  dinner  and  breakfast,  to  see  that  no 
unfair  depredations  were  made  upon  his  viands  ;  in  short, 
as  East  remarked,  cackled  after  him  like  a  hen  with  one 
chick. 

Arthur  took  a  long  time  thawing,  too,  which  made  it 
all  the  harder  work  ;  was  sadly  timid  ;  scarcely  ever  spoke 
unless  Tom  spoke  to  him  first ;  and,  worst  of  all,  would 
agree  with  him  in  ever)'thing,  the  hardest  thing  in  the 
world  for  a  Brown  to  bear.  He  got  quite  angry  sometimes, 
as  they  sat  together  of  a  night  in  their  study,  at  this  pro- 
voking habit  of  agreement,  and  was  on  the  point  of  break- 
ing out  a  dozen  times  with  a  lecture  upon  the  propriety  of 
a  fellow  having  a  will  of  his  own  and  speaking  out ;  but 
managed  to  restram  himself  by  the  thought  that  it  might 
only  frighten  Arthur,  and  the  remembrance  of  the  lesson 
he  had  learnt  from  him  on  his  first  night  at  Number  4. 
Then  he  would  resolve  to  sit  still,  and  not  say  a  word  till 
Arthur  began  ;  but  he  was  always  beat  at  that  game,  and 
had  presently  to  begin  talking  in  despair,  fearing  lest  Arthur 
might  think  he  was  vexed  at  something  if  he  did  n't,  and 
dog-tired  of  sitting  tongue-tied. 

It  was  hard  work  !  But  Tom  had  taken  it  up,  and  meant 
to  stick  to  it,  and  go  through  with  it,  so  as  to  satisfy  him- 
self ;  in  which  resolution  he  was  much  assisted  by  the 
chaffing  of  East  and  his  other  old  friends,  who  began  to 
call  him  'dry-nurse,'  and  otherwise  to  break  their  small  wit 
on  him.  But  when  they  took  other  ground,  as  they  did 
every  now  and  then,  Tom  was  sorely  puzzled. 

[260] 


EAST'S    ADVICE 

'Tell  you  what,  Tommy,'  East  would  say,  'you'll  spoil 
young  Hopeful  with  too  much  coddling.  Why  can't  you  let 
him  go  about  by  himself  and  find  his  own  level  ?  He  '11 
never  be  worth  a  button,  if  you  go  on  keeping  him  under 
your  skirts.' 

'Well,  but  he  ain't  fit  to  fight  his  own  way  yet;  I'm 
trying  to  get  him  to  it  every  day  —  but  he  's  very  odd. 
Poor  little  beggar !  I  can't  make  him  out  a  bit.  He  ain't 
a  bit  like  anything  I  've  ever  seen  or  heard  of  —  he  seems 
all  over  nerves  ;  anything  you  say  seems  to  hurt  him  like 
a  cut  or  a  blow.' 

'That  sort  of  boy's  no  use  here,'  said  East,  'he'll  only 
spoil.  Now,  I  '11  tell  you  what  to  do,  Tommy.  Go  and  get 
a  nice  large  band-box  made,  and  put  him  in  with  plenty  of 
cotton-wool,  and  a  pap-bottle,  labelled  "With  care  —  this 
side  up,"  and  send  him  back  to  mamma.' 

'  I  think  I  shall  make  a  hand  of  him  though,'  said  Tom, 
smiling,  '  say  what  you  will.  There  's  something  about  him, 
every  now  and  then,  which  shows  me  he  's  got  pluck  some- 
where in  him.  That 's  the  only  thing  after  all  that  '11  wash, 
ain't  it,  old  Scud  ?    But  how  to  get  at  it  and  bring  it  out  ? ' 

Tom  took  one  hand  out  of  his  breeches-pocket  and  stuck 
it  in  his  back  hair  for  a  scratch,  giving  his  hat  a  tilt  over 
his  nose,  his  one  method  of  invoking  wisdom.  He  stared 
at  the  ground  with  a  ludicrously  puzzled  look,  and  presently 
looked  up  and  met  East's  eyes.  That  young  gentleman 
slapped  him  on  the  back,  and  then  put  his  arm  round  his 
shoulder,  as  they  strolled  through  the  quadrangle  together. 
'Tom,'  said  he,  'blest  if  you  ain't  the  best  old  fellow  ever 
was  —  I  do  like  to  see  you  go  into  a  thing.  Hang  it,  I 
wish  I  could  take  things  as  you  do  —  but  I  never  can  get 

[261] 


TOM    r.ROWN'S    SCIIOOT.-DAYS 

higher  than  a  joke.  Everything's  a  joke.  If  I  was  going 
to  be  flogged  next  minute,  I  should  be  in  a  blue  funk,  but 
I  could  n't  help  laughing  at  it  for  the  life  of  me.' 

'  Brown  and  East,  you  go  and  fag  for  Jones  on  the  great 
fives-court.' 

*  Hullo,  though,  that 's  past  a  joke,'  broke  out  East, 
springing  at  the  young  gentleman  who  addressed  them,  and 
catching  him  by  the  collar.  '  Here,  Tommy,  catch  hold  of 
him  t'other  side  before  he  can  holla.' 

The  youth  was  seized,  and  dragged  struggling  out  of 
the  quadrangle  into  the  School-house  hall.  He  was  one 
of  the  miserable  little  pretty  white-handed,  curly-headed 
boys,  petted  and  pampered  by  some  of  the  big  fellows,  who 
wrote  their  verses  for  them,  taught  them  to  drink  and  use 
bad  language,  and  did  all  they  could  to  spoil  them  for  every- 
thing *  in  this  world  and  the  next.  One  of  the  avocations 
in  which  these  young  gentlemen  took  particular  delight  was 
in  going  about  and  getting  fags  for  their  protectors,  when 
those  heroes  were  playing  any  game.  They  carried  about 
pencil  and  paper  with  them,  putting  down  the  names  of  all 
the  boys  they  sent,  always  sending  five  times  as  many  as 
were  wanted,  and  getting  all  those  thrashed  who  did  n't  go. 
The  present  youth  belonged  to  a  house  which  was  very 
jealous  of  the  School-house,  and  always  picked  out  School- 
house  fags  when  he  could  find  them.  However,  this  time 
he'd  got  the  wTong  sow  by  the  ear.  His  captors  slammed 
the  great  door  of  the  hall,  and  East  put  his  back  against 

*A  kind  and  wise  critic,  an  old  Rugbeian,  notes  here  in  the  margin  : 
The  'small  friend  system  was  not  so  utterly  bad  from  1841-1847.'  Before 
that,  too,  there  were  many  noble  friendships  between  big  and  little  boys, 
but  I  can't  strike  out  the  passage ;  many  boys  will  know  why  it  is  left  in. 

[262] 


AN    EPISODE 

it,  while  Tom  gave  the  prisoner  a  shake-up,  took  away  his 
hst,  and  stood  liim  up  on  the  floor,  while  he  proceeded 
leisurely  to  examine  that  document. 

'  Let  me  out,  let  me  go !  '  screamed  the  boy  in  a  furious 
passion.  '  I  '11  go  and  tell  Jones  this  minute,  and  he  '11  give 
you  both  the  • thrashing  you  ever  had.' 

'  Pretty  little  dear,'  said  East,  patting  the  top  of  his  hat; 
'  hark  how  he  swears,  Tom.  Nicely  brought-up  young  man, 
ain't  he,  I  don't  think.' 

'  Let  me  alone,  you,'  roared  the  boy,  foaming  with 

rage,  and  kicking  at  East,  who  quietly  tripped  him  up,  and 
deposited  him  on  the  floor  in  a  place  of  safety. 

'  Gently,  young  fellow,'  said  he  ;  '  'tain't  improving  for 
little  whippersnappers  like  you  to  be  indulging  in  blas- 
phemy ;  so  you  stop  that,  or  you  '11  get  something  you 
won't  like.' 

'  Lll  have  you  both  licked  when  I  get  out,  that  I  will,' 
rejoined  the  boy,  beginning  to  snivel. 

'Two  can  play  .at  that  game,  mind  you,'  said  Tom,  who 
had  finished  his  examination  of  the  list.  '  Now  you  just 
listen  here.  We  've  just  come  across  the  fives-court,  and 
Jones  has  four  fags  there  already,  two  more  than  he  wants. 
If  he  'd  wanted  us  to  change,  he  'd  have  stopped  us  himself. 
And  here,  you  little  blackguard,  you  've  got  seven  names 
down  on  your  list  besides  ours,  and  five  of  them  School- 
house.'  Tom  walked  up  to  him  and  jerked  him  on  to  his 
legs ;  he  was  by  this  time  whining  like  a  whipped  puppy. 

'  Now  just  listen  to  me.  We  ain't  going  to  fag  for  Jones. 
If  you  tell  him  you  've  sent  us,  we  '11  each  of  us  give  you 
such  a  thrashing  as  you  '11  remember.'  And  Tom  tore  up 
the  list  and  threw  the  pieces  into  the  fire. 

[^63] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

'And  mind  you,  too,'  said  East,  'don't  let  me  catch  you 
again  sneaking  about  the  School-house,  and  picking  up  our 
fags.  You  have  n't  got  the  sort  of  hide  to  take  a  sound 
licking  kindly  ' ;  and  he  opened  the  door  and  sent  the  young 
gentleman  flying  into  the  quadrangle,  with  a  parting  kick. 

'Nice  boy.  Tommy,'  said  East,  shoving  his  hands  in  his 
pockets  and  strolling  to  the  fire. 

'Worst  sort  we  breed,'  responded  Tom,  following  his 
example.  '  Thank  goodness,  no  big  fellow  ever  took  to 
petting  me.' 

'  You  'd  never  have  been  like  that,'  said  East.  '  I  should 
like  to  have  put  him  in  a  museum :  —  Christian  young 
gentleman,  nineteenth  century,  highly  educated.  Stir  him 
up  with  a  long  pole.  Jack,  and  hear  him  swear  like  a 
drunken  sailor !  He  'd  make  a  respectable  public  open  its 
eyes,  I  think.' 

'  Think  he  '11  tell  Jones  .? '  said  Tom. 

'No,'  said  East.    'Don't  care  if  he  does.' 

'Nor  I,'  said  Tom.  And  they  went  back  to  talk  about 
Arthur. 

The  young  gentleman  had  brains  enough  not  to  tell 
Jones,  reasoning  that  East  and  Brown,  who  were  noted  as 
some  of  the  toughest  fags  in  the  School,  would  n't  care 
three  straws  for  any  licking  Jones  might  give  them,  and 
would  be  likely  to  keep  their  words  as  to  passing  it  on 
with  interest. 

After  the  above  conversation.  East  came  a  good  deal  to 
their  study,  and  took  notice  of  Arthur ;  and  soon  allowed 
to  Tom  that  he  was  a  thorough  little  gentleman,  and  would 
get  over  his  shyness  all  in  good  time  ;  which  much  com- 
forted our  hero.    He  felt  every  day,  too,  the  value  of  having 

[264] 


^^fuyy^A 


SENT  THE  YOUNG  GENTLEMAN  ELYING  INTO  THE 
QUADRANGEE' 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL- DAYS 

an  object  in  his  life,  something  that  drew  him  out  of  himself; 
and,  it  being  the  dull  time  of  the  year,  and  no  games  going 
about  which  he  much  cared  for,  was  happier  than  he  had 
ever  yet  been  at  school,  which  was  saying  a  great  deal. 

The  time  which  Tom  allowed  himself  away  from  his 
charge  was  from  locking-up  till  supper-time.  During  this 
hour  or  hour  and  a  half  he  used  to  take  his  fling,  going 
round  to  the  studies  of  all  his  acquaintance,  sparring  or 
gossiping  in  the  hall,  now  jumping  the  old  iron-bound  tables, 
or  carving  a  bit  of  his  name  on  them,  then  joining  in  some 
chorus  of  merry  voices  ;  in  fact,  blowing  off  his  steam,  as 
we  should  now  call  it. 

This  process  was  so  congenial  to  his  temper,  and  Arthur 
showed  himself  so  pleased  at  the  arrangement,  that  it  was 
several  weeks  before  Tom  was  ever  in  their  study  before 
supper.  One  evening,  however,  he  rushed  in  to  look  for 
an  old  chisel,  or  some  corks,  or  other  article  essential  to 
his  pursuit  for  the  time  being,  and  while  rummaging  about 
in  the  cupboards,  looked  up  for  a  moment,  and  was  caught 
at  once  by  the  figure  of  poor  little  Arthur.  The  boy  was 
sitting  with  his  elbows  on  the  table,  and  his  head  leaning 
on  his  hands,  and  before  him  an  open  book,  on  which  his 
tears  were  falling  fast.  Tom  shut  the  door  at  once,  and  sat 
down  on  the  sofa  by  Arthur,  putting  his  arm  round  his  neck. 

'  Why,  young  un  !  what 's  the  matter  ? '  said  he  kindly  ; 
'you  ain't  unhappy,  are  you.-*' 

*  Oh  no.  Brown,'  said  the  little  boy,  looking  up  with  the 
great  tears  in  his  eyes,  'you  are  so  kind  to  me,  I'm  very 
happy.' 

'  Why  don't  you  call  me  Tom  ?  lots  of  boys  do  that  I 
don't  like  half  so  much  as  you.     What  are   you   reading, 

[266] 


LESSON    NO.  2 

then  ?  Hang  it,  you  must  come  about  with  me,  and  not 
mope  yourself ' ;  and  Tom  cast  down  his  eyes  on  the  book, 
and  saw  it  was  the  Bible.  He  was  silent  for  a  minute,  and 
thought  to  himself,  'Lesson  Number  2,  Tom  Brown';  — 
and  then  said  gently  — 

♦I'm  very  glad  to  see  this,  Arthur,  and  ashamed  that  I 
don't  read  the  Bible  more  myself.  Do  you  read  it  every 
night  before  supper  while  Lm  out.'*' 

'Yes.' 

'  Well,  I  wish  you  'd  wait  till  afterwards,  and  then  we  'd 
read  together.     But,  Arthur,  why  does  it  make  you  cry .? ' 

'Oh,  it  isn't  that  Lm  unhappy.  But  at  home,  while  my 
father  was  alive,  we  always  read  the  lessons  after  tea ;  and 
I  love  to  read  them  over  now,  and  try  to  remember  what 
he  said  about  them.  I  can't  remember  all,  and  I  think  I 
scarcely  understand  a  great  deal  of  what  I  do  remember. 
But  it  all  comes  back  to  me  so  fresh,  that  I  can't  help 
crying  sometimes  to  think  I  shall  never  read  them  again 
with  him.' 

Arthur  had  never  spoken  of  his  home  before,  and  Tom 
had  n't  encouraged  him  to  do  so,  as  his  blundering  school- 
boy reasoning  made  him  think  that  Arthur  would  be  soft- 
ened and  less  manly  for  thinking  of  home.  But  now  he 
was  fairly  interested,  and  forgot  all  about  chisels  and  bot- 
tled beer  ;  while  with  very  little  encouragement  Arthur 
launched  into  his  home  history,  and  the  prayer-bell  put 
them  both  out  sadly  when  it  rang  to  call  them  to  the  hall. 

From  this  time  Arthur  constantly  spoke  of  his  home,  and 
above  all,  of  his  father,  who  had  been  dead  about  a  year, 
and  whose  memory  Tom  soon  got  to  love  and  reverence 
almost  as  much  as  his  own  son  did. 

[267] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

Arthur's  father  had  been  the  clergyman  of  a  parish  in 
the  Midland  counties,  which  had  risen  into  a  large  town 
during  the  war,  and  upon  which  the  hard  years  which  fol- 
lowed had  fallen  with  a  fearful  weight.  The  trade  had  been 
half  ruined  :  and  then  came  the  old  sad  story  of  masters 
reducing  their  establishments,  men  turned  off  and  wander- 
ing about,  hungry  and  wan  in  body,  and  fierce  in  soul, 
from  the  thought  of  wives  and  children  starving  at  home, 
and  the  last  sticks  of  furniture  going  to  the  pawn-shop. 
Children  taken  from  school,  and  lounging  about  the  dirty 
streets  and  courts,  too  listless  almost  to  play,  and  squalid 
in  rags  and  misery.  And  then  the  fearful  struggle  between 
the  employers  and  men  ;  lowerings  of  wages,  strikes,  and 
the  long  course  of  oft-repeated  crime,  ending  every  now  and 
then  with  a  riot,  a  fire,  and  the  county  yeomanry.  There  is 
no  need  here  to  dwell  upon  such  tales  ;  the  Englishman 
into  whose  soul  they  have  not  sunk  deep  is  not  worthy 
the  name  ;  you  English  boys  for  whom  this  book  is  meant 
(God  bless  your  bright  faces  and  kind  hearts  !)  will  learn 
it  all  soon  enough. 

Into  such  a  parish  and  state  of  society  Arthur's  father 
had  been  thrown  at  the  age  of  twenty-five,  a  young  married 
parson,  full  of  faith,  hope,  and  love.  He  had  battled  with 
it  like  a  man,  and  had  lots  of  fine  Utopian  ideas  about  the 
perfectibility  of  mankind,  glorious  humanity,  and  such-like, 
knocked  out  of  his  head  ;  and  a  real  wholesome  Christian 
love  for  the  poor  struggling,  sinning  men,  of  whom  he  felt 
himself  one,  and  with  and  for  whom  he  spent  fortune,  and 
strength,  and  life,  driven  into  his  heart.  He  had  battled 
like  a  man,  and  gotten  a  man's  reward.  No  silver  teapots 
or  salvers,  with  flowery  inscriptions,  setting  forth  his  virtues 

[268] 


ARTHUR'S    HOME 

and  the  appreciation  of  a  genteel  parish  ;  no  fat  Hving  or 
stall,  for  which  he  never  looked,  and  did  n't  care  ;  no  sighs 
and  praises  of  comfortable  dowagers  and  well-got-up  young 
women  who  worked  him  slippers,  sugared  his  tea,  and  adored 
him  as  '  a  devoted  man  '  ;  but  a  manly  respect,  wrung  from 
the  unwilling  souls  of  men  who  fancied  his  order  their 
natural  enemies ;  the  fear  and  hatred  of  every  one  who  was 
false  or  unjust  in  the  district,  were  he  master  or  man  ;  and 
the  blessed  sight  of  women  and  children  daily  becoming 
more  human  and  more  homely,  a  comfort  to  themselves 
and  to  their  husbands  and  fathers. 

These  things  of  course  took  time,  and  had  to  be  fought 
for  with  toil  and  sweat  of  brain  and  heart,  and  with  the 
life-blood  poured  out.  All  that,  Arthur  had  laid  his  account 
to  give,  and  took  as  a  matter  of  course  ;  neither  pitying 
himself,  nor  looking  on  himself  as  a  martyr,  when  he  felt 
the  wear  and  tear  making  him  feel  old  before  his  time,  and 
the  stifling  air  of  fever-dens  telling  on  his  health.  His  wife 
seconded  him  in  everything.  She  had  been  rather  fond  of 
society,  and  much  admired  and  run  after  before  her  mar- 
riage ;  and  the  London  world,  to  which  she  had  belonged, 
pitied  poor  Fanny  Evelyn  when  she  married  the  young 
clergyman,  and  went  to  settle  in  that  smoky  hole  Turley,  a 
very  nest  of  Chartism  and  Atheism,  in  a  part  of  the  county 
which  all  the  decent  families  had  had  to  leave  for  years. 
However,  somehow  or  other  she  did  n't  seem  to  care.  If 
her  husband's  living  had  been  amongst  green  fields  and 
near  pleasant  neighbours,  she  would  have  liked  it  better, 
that  she  never  pretended  to  deny.  But  there  they  were  : 
the  air  was  n't  bad,  after  all ;  the  people  were  very  good 
sort  of  people,  civil  to  you  if  you  were  civil  to  them,  after 

[269] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

the  first  brush  ;  and  they  did  n't  expect  to  work  miracles, 
and  convert  them  all  off-hand  into  model  Christians.  So  he 
and  she  went  quietly  among  the  folk,  talking  to  and  treat- 
ing them  just  as  they  would  have  done  people  of  their 
own  rank.  They  did  n't  feel  that  they  were  doing  anything 
out  of  the  common  way,  and  so  were  perfectly  natural,  and 
had  none  of  that  condescension  or  consciousness  of  manner 
which  so  outrages  the  independent  poor.  And  thus  they 
gradually  won  respect  and  confidence  ;  and  after  sixteen 
years  he  was  looked  up  to  by  the  whole  neighbourhood  as 
tJie  just  man,  the  man  to  whom  masters  and  men  could  go 
in  their  strikes,  and  all  in  their  quarrels  and  difficulties, 
and  by  whom  the  right  and  true  word  would  be  said  with- 
out fear  or  favour.  And  the  women  had  come  round  to 
take  her  advice,  and  go  to  her  as  a  friend  in  all  their 
troubles  ;  while  the  children  all  worshipped  the  very  ground 
she  trod  on. 

They  had  three  children,  two  daughters  and  a  son,  little 
Arthur,  who  came  between  his  sisters.  He  had  been  a  very 
delicate  boy  from  his  childhood  ;  they  thought  he  had  a 
tendency  to  consumption,  and  so  he  had  been  kept  at  home 
and  taught  by  his  father,  who  had  made  a  companion  of 
him,  and  from  whom  he  had  gained  good  scholarship,  and 
a  knowledge  of  and  interest  in  many  subjects  which  boys  in 
general  never  come  across  till  they  are  many  years  older. 

Just  as  he  reached  his  thirteenth  year,  and  his  father  had 
settled  that  he  was  strong  enough  to  go  to  school,  and,  after 
much  debating  with  himself,  had  resolved  to  send  him  there, 
a  desperate  typhus  fever  broke  out  in  the  town  ;  most  of 
the  other  clergy,  and  almost  all  the  doctors,  ran  away  ;  the 
work  fell  with  tenfold  weight  on  those  who  stood  to  their 

[270] 


ARTHUR'S    HOME 

work.  Arthur  and  his  wife  both  caught  the  fever,  of  which 
he  died  in  a  few  days,  and  she  recovered,  having  been  able 
to  nurse  him  to  the  end,  and  store  up  his  last  words.  He 
was  sensible  to  the  last,  and  calm  and  happy,  leaving  his  wife 
and  children  with  fearless  trust  for  a  few  years  in  the  hands 
of  the  Lord  and  Friend  who  had  lived  and  died  for  him, 
and  for  whom  he,  to  the  best  of  his  power,  had  lived  and 
died.  His  widow's  mourning  was  deep  and  gentle  ;  she  was 
more  affected  by  the  request  of  the  Committee  of  a  Free- 
thinking  Club,  established  in  the  town  by  some  of  the  fac- 
tory hands  (which  he  had  striven  against  with  might  and 
main,  and  nearly  suppressed),  that  some  of  their  number 
might  be  allowed  to  help  bear  the  coffin,  than  by  anything 
else.  Two  of  them  were  chosen,  who,  with  six  other  labour- 
ing men,  his  own  fellow-workmen  and  friends,  bore  him  to 
his  grave  —  a  man  who  had  fought  the  Lord's  fight  even 
unto  the  death.  The  shops  were  closed  and  the  factories 
shut  that  day  in  the  parish,  yet  no  master  stopped  the  day's 
wages  ;  but  for  many  a  year  afterwards  the  townsfolk  felt 
the  want  of  that  brave,  hopeful,  loving  parson,  and  his 
wife,  who  had  lived  to  teach  them  mutual  forbearance  and 
helpfulness,  and  had  almost  at  last  given  them  a  glimpse 
of  what  this  old  world  would  be  if  people  would  live  for 
God  and  each  other,  instead  of  for  themselves. 

What  has  all  this  to  do  with  our  story }  \\' ell,  my  dear 
boys,  let  a  fellow  go  on  his  own  way,  or  you  won't  get  any- 
thing out  of  him  worth  having.  I  must  show  you  what  sort 
of  a  man  it  was  who  had  begotten  and  trained  little  Arthur, 
or  else  you  won't  believe  in  him,  which  I  am  resolved  you 
shall  do  ;  and  you  won't  sec  how  he,  the  timid  weak  boy, 
had  points  in   him  from  which  the   bravest  and  strongest 

[271] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

recoiled,  and  made  his  presence  and  example  felt  from  the 
first  on  all  sides,  unconsciously  to  himself,  and  without  the 
least  attempt  at  proselytizing.  The  spirit  of  his  father  was 
in  him,  and  the  Friend  to  whom  his  father  had  left  him 
did  not  neglect  the  trust. 

After  supper  that  night,  and  almost  nightly  for  years 
afterwards,  Tom  and  Arthur,  and  by  degrees  East  occa- 
sionally, and  sometimes  one,  sometimes  another,  of  their 
friends,  read  a  chapter  of  the  Bible  together,  and  talked  it 
over  aftenvards.  Tom  was  at  first  utterly  astonished,  and 
almost  shocked,  at  the  sort  of  way  in  which  Arthur  read  the 
book,  and  talked  about  the  men  and  women  whose  lives 
were  there  told.  The  first  night  they  happened  to  fall  on 
the  chapters  about  the  famine  in  Egypt,  and  Arthur  began 
talking  about  Joseph  as  if  he  were  a  living  statesman  ;  just 
as  he  might  have  talked  about  Lord  Grey  and  the  Reform 
Bill ;  only  that  they  were  much  more  living  realities  to  him. 
The  book  was  to  him,  Tom  saw,  the  most  vivid  and  delight- 
ful history  of  real  people,  who  might  do  right  or  WTong,  just 
like  any  one  who  was  walking  about  in  Rugby  —  the  Doctor, 
or  the  masters,  or  the  sixth-form  boys.  But  the  astonish- 
ment soon  passed  off,  the  scales  seemed  to  drop  from  his 
eyes,  and  the  book  became  at  once  and  for  ever  to  him  the 
great  human  and  divine  book,  and  the  men  and  women, 
whom  he  had  looked  upon  as  something  quite  different 
from  himself,  became  his  friends  and  counsellors. 

For  our  purposes,  however,  the  history  of  one  night's 
reading  will  be  sufficient,  which  must  be  told  here,  now 
we  are  on  the  subject,  though  it  did  n't  happen  till  a  year 
afterwards,  and  long  after  the  events  recorded  in  the  next 
chapter  of  our  story. 

[272] 


TOM    IS    STIFF-NECKED 

Arthur,  Tom,  and  East  were  together  one  night,  and 
read  the  story  of  Naaman  coming  to  Ehsha  to  be  cured  of 
his  leprosy.  When  the  chapter  was  finished,  Tom  shut  his 
Bible  with  a  slap, 

'I  can't  stand  that  fellow  Naaman,'  said  he,  'after  what 
he  'd  seen  and  felt,  going  back  and  bowing  himself  down  in 
the  house  of  Rimmon,  because  his  effeminate  scoundrel  of 
a  master  did  it,  I  wonder  Elisha  took  the  trouble  to  heal 
him.     How  he  must  have  despised  him  !  ' 

'  Yes,  there  you  go  off  as  usual,  with  a  shell  on  your 
head,'  struck  in  East,  who  always  took  the  opposite  side  to 
Tom  ;  half  from  love  of  argument,  half  from  conviction, 
'How  do  you  know  he  didn't  think  better  of  it.?  how  do 
you  know  his  master  was  a  scoundrel  ?  His  letter  don't 
look  like  it,  and  the  book  don't  say  so.' 

•I  don't  care,'  rejoined  Tom;  'why  did  Naaman  talk 
about  bowing  down,  then,  if  he  did  n't  mean  to  do  it  ?  He 
wasn't  likely  to  get  more  in  earnest  when  he  got  back  to 
Court,  and  away  from  the  Prophet,' 

'Well,  but,  Tom,'  said  Arthur,  'look  what  Elisha  says 
to  him,  "Go  in  peace."  He  wouldn't  have  said  that  if 
Naaman  had  been  in  the  wrong.' 

'  I  don't  see  that  that  means  more  than  saying,  "  You  're 
not  the  man  I  took  you  for,"  ' 

'  No,  no,  that  won't  do  at  all,'  said  East ;  '  read  the  words 
fairly,  and  take  men  as  you  find  them,  I  like  Naaman,  and 
think  he  was  a  very  fine  fellow,' 

'  I  don't,'  said  Tom  positively. 

'Well,  I  think  East  is  right,'  said  Arthur;  'I  can't  see 
but  what  it 's  right  to  do  the  best  you  can,  though  it  mayn't 
be  the  best  absolutely.    Every  man  is  n't  born  to  be  a  martyr.' 

[273] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

'Of  course,  of  course,'  said  East;  'but  he's  on  one  of 
his  pet  hobbies.  How  often  have  I  told  you,  Tom,  that 
you  must  drive  a  nail  where  it  '11  go.' 

'And  how  often  have  I  told  you,'  rejoined  Tom,  'that 
it  '11  always  go  where  you  want,  if  you  only  stick  to  it  and 
hit  hard  enough.     I  hate  half-measures  and  compromises.' 

'  Yes,  he  's  a  whole-hog  man,  is  Tom.  Must  have  the 
whole  animal,  hair  and  teeth,  claws  and  tail,'  laughed  East. 
'  Sooner  have  no  bread  any  day  than  half  the  loaf.' 

'I  don't  know,'  said  Arthur,  'it's  rather  puzzling;  but 
ain't  most  right  things  got  by  proper  compromises,  I 
mean  where  the  principle  is  n't  given  up  ? ' 

'That's  just  the  point,'  said  Tom;  'I  don't  object  to  a 
compromise,  where  you  don't  give  up  your  principle,' 

'  Not  you,'  said  East  laughingly.  '  I  know  him  of  old, 
Arthur,  and  you  '11  find  him  out  some  day.  There  is  n't  such 
a  reasonable  fellow  in  the  world,  to  hear  him  talk.  He  never 
wants  anything  but  what 's  right  and  fair ;  only  when  you 
come  to  settle  what 's  right  and  fair,  it 's  everything  that  he 
wants,  and  nothing  that  you  want.  And  that 's  his  idea  of 
a  compromise.  Give  me  the  Brown  compromise  when  I'm 
on  his  side.' 

'Now,  Harry,'  said  Tom,  'no  more  chaff  —  I'm  serious. 
Look  here  —  this  is  what  makes  rriy  blood  tingle  '  ;  and  he 
turned  over  the  pages  of  his  Bible  and  read,  '  Shadrach, 
Meshach,  and  Abednego  answered  and  said  to  the  king, 
O  Nebuchadnezzar,  we  are  not  careful  to  answer  thee  in 
this  matter.  If  it  de  so,  our  God  whom  we  serve  is  able  to 
deliver  us  from  the  burning  fiery  furnace,  and  He  will 
deliver  us  out  of  thine  hand,  O  king.  But  //"  nof,  be  it 
known  unto  thee,  O  king,  that  we  will  /wt  serve  thy  gods, 

[274] 


\<\ 


TOM    PLEDGES    HIMSELF 

nor  worship  the  golden  image  which  thou  hast  set  up.'  He 
read  the  last  verse  twice,  emphasizing  the  nots,  and  dwelling 
on  them  as  if  they  gave  him  actual  pleasure,  and  were 
hard  to  part  with. 

They  were  silent  a  minute,  and  then  Arthur  said,  '  Yes, 
that 's  a  glorious  story,  but  it  don't  prove  your  point,  Tom, 
I  think.  There  are  times  when  there  is  only  one  way,  and 
that  the  highest,  and  then  the  men  are  found  to  stand  in 
the  breach.' 

'  There  's  always  a  highest  way,  and  it 's  always  the  right 
one,'  said  Tom.  '  How  many  times  has  the  Doctor  told  us 
that  in  his  sermons  in  the  last  year,  I  should  like  to  know  ? ' 

'  Well,  you  ain't  going  to  convince  us,  is  he,  Arthur } 
No  Brown  compromise  to-night,'  said  East,  looking  at  his 
watch.  '  But  it 's  past  eight,  and  we  must  go  to  first  lesson. 
What  a  bore  !  ' 

So  they  took  down  their  books  and  fell  to  work  ;  but 
Arthur  did  n't  forget,  and  thought  long  and  often  over 
the   conversation. 


[27s] 


C6aMQr  HI 


Mrffiur  ma^ejc  u  3^ien^ 


*  Let  nature  be  your  teacher  ; 
Sweet  is  the  lore  which  nature  brings  ; 
Our  meddling  intellect 
Mis-shapes  the  beauteous  forms  of  things. 
We  murder  to  dissect  — 
Enough  of  Science  and  of  Art ; 
Close  up  those  barren  leaves  ; 
Come  forth,  and  bring  with  you  a  heart 
That  watches  and  receives. ' 

Wordsworth 

[276] 


THE    MADMAN 


BOUT  six  weeks  after  the  beginning  of 
the  half,  as  Tom  and  Arthur  were  sit- 
ting one  night  before  supper  beginning 
their  verses,  Arthur  suddenly  stopped, 
and  looked  up,  and  said,  '  Tom,  do  you 
know  anything  of  Martin  ?  ' 
'Yes,'  said  Tom,  taking  his  hand  out  of  his  back  hair, 
and  delighted  to  throw  his  Gradus  ad  Parnassum  on  to  the 
sofa ;  '  I  know  him  pretty  well.  He  's  a  very  good  fellow, 
but  as  mad  as  a  hatter.  He  's  called  Madman,  you  know. 
And  never  was  such  a  fellow  for  getting  all  sorts  of  rum 
things  about  him.  He  tamed  two  snakes  last  half,  and  used 
to  carry  them  about  in  his  pocket,  and  I  '11  be  bound  he  's 
got  some  hedgehogs  and  rats  in  his  cupboard  now,  and  no 
one  knows  what  besides.' 

'I  should  like  very  much  to  know  him,'  said  Arthur; 
*  he  was  next  to  me  in  the  form  to-day,  and  he  'd  lost  his 
book  and  looked  over  mine,  and  he  seemed  so  kind  and 
gentle,  that  I  liked  him  very  much.' 

'Ah,  poor  old  Madman,  he's  always  losing  his  books,' 
said  Tom,  '  and  getting  called  up  and  floored  because  he 
has  n't  got  them.' 

'I  like  him  all  the  better,'  said  Arthur. 
'Well,  he's  great  fun,  I  can  tell  you,'  said  Tom,  throw- 
ing himself  back  on  the  sofa,  and  chuckling  at  the  remem- 
brance. '  We  had  such  a  game  with  him  one  day  last  half. 
He  had  been  kicking  up  horrid  stinks  for  some  time  in  his 
study,  till  I  suppose  some  fellow  told  Mary,  and  she  told  the 
Doctor.  Anyhow,  one  day  a  little  before  dinner,  when  he 
came  down  from  the  library,  the  Doctor,  instead  of  going 
home,  came  striding  into  the  Hall.     East  and  I  and  five  or 

[277] 


TOM  BROWN'S  SCHOOL- DAYS 

six  other  fellows  were  at  the  fire,  and  preciously  we  stared, 
for  he  don't  come  in  like  that  once  a  year,  unless  it  is  a 
wet  day  and  there  's  a  fight  in  the  Hall.  "  East,"  says  he, 
"just  come  and  show  me  Martin's  study."  "Oh,  here's  a 
game,"  whispered  the  rest  of  us,  and  we  all  cut  upstairs 
after  the  Doctor,  East  leading.  As  we  got  into  the  New 
Row,  which  was  hardly  wide  enough  to  hold  the  Doctor 
and  his  gown,  click,  click,  click,  we  heard  in  the  old  Mad- 
man's den.  Then  that  stopped  all  of  a  sudden,  and  the 
bolts  went  to  like  fun  :  the  Madman  knew  East's  step,  and 
thought  there  was  going  to  be  a  siege. 

«  "  It 's  the  Doctor,  ^^lartin.     He  's  here  and  wants  to  see 
you,"  sings  out  East. 

'  Then  the  bolts  went  back  slowly,  and  the  door  opened, 
and  there  was  the  old  ]\Iadman  standing,  looking  precious 
scared  ;  his  jacket  off,  his  shirt-sleeves  up  to  his  elbows, 
and  his  long  skinny  arms  all  covered  with  anchors  and 
arrows  and  letters,  tattooed  in  with  gunpowder  like  a  sailor- 
boy's,  and  a  stink  fit  to  knock  you  down  coming  out.  'T  was 
all  the  Doctor  could  do  to  stand  his  ground,  and  East  and 
I,  who  were  looking  in  under  his  arms,  held  our  noses  tight. 
The  old  magpie  was  standing  on  the  window-sill,  all  his 
feathers  drooping,  and  looking  disgusted  and  half -poisoned. 
'  "  What  can  you  be  about,  Martin  ?  "  says  the  Doctor ; 
"you  really  mustn't  go  on  in  this  way  —  you  're  a  nuisance 
to  the  whole  passage," 

'  "  Please,  Sir,  I  was  only  mixing  up  this  powder,  there 
isn't  any  harm  in  it";  and  the  Madman  seized  nervously 
on  his  pestle-and-mortar,  to  show  the  Doctor  the  harmless- 
ness  of  his  pursuits,  and  went  on  pounding ;  click,  click, 
click  ;  he  had  n't  given  six  clicks  before  puff !  up  went  the 

[278] 


EAST   AND    I  .  .  .  HELD   OUR   NOSES   TIGHT' 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

whole  into  a  great  blaze,  away  went  the  pestle-and-mortar 
across  the  study,  and  back  we  tumbled  into  the  passage. 
The  magpie  fluttered  down  into  the  court,  swearing,  and 
the  Madman  danced  out,  howling,  with  his  fingers  in  his 
mouth.  The  Doctor  caught  hold  of  him,  and  called  to  us 
to  fetch  some  water.  "There,  you  silly  fellow,"  said  he, 
quite  pleased  though  to  find  he  wasn't  much  hurt,  "you  see 
you  don't  know  the  least  what  you  're  doing  with  all  these 
things  ;  and  now,  mind,  you  must  give  up  practising  chemis- 
try by  yourself."  Then  he  took  hold  of  his  arm  and  looked 
at  it,  and  I  saw  he  had  to  bite  his  lip,  and  his  eyes  twinkled ; 
but  he  said,  quite  grave,  "  Here,  you  see,  you  've  been  mak- 
ing all  these  foolish  marks  on  yourself,  which  you  can  never 
get  out,  and  you  '11  be  very  sorry  for  it  in  a  year  or  two  : 
now  come  down  to  the  housekeeper's  room,  and  let  us  see 
if  you  are  hurt."  And  away  went  the  two,  and  we  all 
stayed  and  had  a  regular  turnout  of  the  den,  till  Martin 
came  back  with  his  hand  bandaged  and  turned  us  out. 
However,  I  '11  go  and  see  what  he  's  after,  and  tell  him  to 
come  in  after  prayers  to  supper.'  And  away  went  Tom  to 
find  the  boy  in  question,  who  dwelt  in  a  little  study  by 
himself,    in   New   Row. 

The  aforesaid  Martin,  whom  Arthur  had  taken  such  a 
fancy  for,  was  one  of  those  unfortunates  who  were  at  that 
time  of  day  (and  are,  I  fear,  still)  quite  out  of  their  places 
at  a  public  school.  If  we  knew  how  to  use  our  boys,  Martin 
would  have  been  seized  upon  and  educated  as  a  natural  phi- 
losopher. He  had  a  passion  for  birds,  beasts,  and  insects, 
and  knew  more  of  them  and  their  habits  than  any  one  in 
Rugby ;  except  perhaps  the  Doctor,  who  knew  everything. 
He  was  also  an  experimental  chemist  on  a  small  scale,  and 

[280] 


TROUBLES    OF    A    BO  Y-P  H  I  LO  S  O  P  H  ER 

had  made  unto  himself  an  electric  machine,  from  which 
it  was  his  greatest  pleasure  and  glory  to  administer  small 
shocks  to  any  small  boys  wlio  were  rash  enough  to  venture 
into  his  study.  And  this  was  by  no  means  an  adventure 
free  from  excitement ;  for,  besides  the  probability  of  a  snake 
dropping  on  to  your  liead  or  twining  lovingly  up  your  leg, 
or  a  rat  getting  into  your  breeches-pocket  in  search  of  food, 
there  was  the  animal  and  chemical  odour  to  be  faced,  which 
always  hung  about  the  den,  and  the  chance  of  being  blown 
up  in  some  of  the  many  experiments  which  Martin  was 
always  trying,  with  the  most  wondrous  results  in  the  shape 
of  explosions  and  smells  that  mortal  boy  ever  heard  of.  Of 
course,  poor  Martin,  in  consequence  of  his  pursuits,  had 
become  an  Ishmaelite  in  the  house.  In  the  first  place,  he 
half-poisoned  all  his  neighbours,  and  they  in  turn  were 
always  on  the  look-out  to  pounce  upon  any  of  his  numerous 
live-stock,  and  drive  him  frantic  by  enticing  his  pet  old  mag- 
pie out  of  his  window  into  a  neighbouring  study,  and  making 
the  disreputable  old  bird  drunk  on  toast  soaked  in  beer  and 
sugar.  Then  Martin,  for  his  sins,  inhabited  a  study  looking 
into  a  small  court  some  ten  feet  across,  the  window  of  which 
was  completely  commanded,by  those  of  the  studies  opposite 
in  the  Sick-room  row,  these  latter  being  at  a  slightly  higher 
elevation.  East,  and  another  boy  of  an  equally  tormenting 
and  ingenious  turn  of  mind,  now  lived  exactly  opposite, 
and  had  expended  huge  pains  and  time  in  the  preparation 
of  instruments  of  annovance  for  the  behoof  of  Martin 
and  his  live  colony.  One  morning  an  old  basket  made  its 
appearance,  suspended  by  a  short  cord  outside  Martin's 
window,  in  which  were  deposited  an  amateur  nest  contain- 
ing four  young   hungry  jackdaws,   the   pride  and   glory  of 

[281] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

Martin's  life  for  the  time  being,  and  which  he  was  currently 
asserted  to  have  hatched  upon  his  own  person.  Early  in 
the  morning  and  late  at  night  he  was  to  be  seen  half  out 
of  window,  administering  to  the  varied  wants  of  his  callow 
brood.  After  deep  cogitation.  East  and  his  chum  had  spliced 
a  knife  on  to  the  end  of  a  fishing-rod  ;  and  having  watched 
Martin  out,  had,  after  half  an  hour's  severe  sawing,  cut  the 
string  by  which  the  basket  was  suspended,  and  tumbled  it  on 
to  the  pavement  below,  with  hideous  remonstrance  from  the 
occupants.  Poor  Martin,  returning  from  his  short  absence, 
collected  the  fragments  and  replaced  his  brood  (except  one 
whose  neck  had  been  broken  in  the  descent)  in  their  old 
location,  suspending  them  this  time  by  string  and  wire 
twisted  together,  defiant  of  any  sharp  instrument  which  his 
persecutors  could  command.  But,  like  the  Russian  engineers 
at  Sebastopol,  East  and  his  chum  had  an  answer  for  every 
move  of  the  adversary  ;  and  the  next  day  had  mounted  a  gun 
in  the  shape  of  pea-shooter  upon  the  ledge  of  their  window, 
trained  so  as  to  bear  exactly  upon  the  spot  which  Martin  had 
to  occupy  while  tending  his  nurselings.  The  moment  he  be- 
gan to  feed,  they  began  to  shoot ;  in  vain  did  the  ene"my  him- 
self invest  in  a  pea-shooter,  and  endeavour  to  answer  the  fire 
while  he  fed  the  young  birds  with  his  other  hand  ;  his  at- 
tention was  divided,  and  his  shots  fiew  wild,  while  every  one 
of  theirs  told  on  his  face  and  hands,  and  drove  him  into 
howlings  and  imprecations.  He  had  been  driven  to  ensconce 
the  nest  in  a  corner  of  his  already  too  well-filled  den. 

His  door  was  barricaded  by  a  set  of  ingenious  bolts  of  his 
own  invention,  for  the  sieges  were  frequent  by  the  neigh- 
bours when  any  unusually  ambrosial  odour  spread  itself  from 
the  den  to  the  neighbouring  studies.    The  door  panels  were 

[282] 


THE    PHILOSOPHER'S    DEN 

in  a  normal  state  of  smash,  but  the  frame  of  the  door 
resisted  all  besiegers,  and  behind  it  the  owner  carried  on  his 
varied  pursuits  ;  much  in  the  same  state  of  mind,  I  should 
fancy,  as  a  border-farmer  lived  in,  in  the  days  of  the  old 
moss-troopers,  when  his  hold  might  be  summoned  or  his 
cattle  carried  off  at  any  minute  of  night  or  day. 

'Open,  Martin,  old  boy  —  it's  only  I,  Tom  Brown.' 

'Oh,  very  well,  stop  a  moment.'  One  bolt  went  back, 
'  You  're  sure  East  is  n't  there  ? ' 

'  No,  no,  hang  it,  open.'  Tom  gave  a  kick,  the  other 
bolt  creaked,  and  he  entered  the  den. 

Den  indeed  it  was,  about  five  feet  six  inches  long  by  five 
wide,  and  seven  feet  high.  About  six  tattered  school-books, 
and  a  few  chemical  books,  Taxidermy,  Stanley  on  Birds, 
and  an  odd  volume  of  Bewick,  the  latter  in  much  better 
preservation,  occupied  the  top  shelves.  The  other  shelves, 
where  they  had  not  been  cut  away  and  used  by  the  owner 
for  other  purposes,  were  fitted  up  for  the  abiding  places  of 
birds,  beasts,  and'  reptiles.  There  was  no  attempt  at  carpet 
or  curtain.  The  table  was  entirely  occupied  by  the  great 
work  of  Martin,  the  electric  machine,  which  was  covered 
carefully  with  the  remains  of  his  table-cloth.  The  jackdaw 
cage  occupied  one  wall,  and  the  other  was  adorned  by  a 
small  hatchet,  a  pair  of  climbing-irons,  and  his  tin  candle- 
box,  in  which  he  was  for  the  time  being  endeavouring  to 
raise  a  hopeful  young  family  of  field-mice.  As  nothing 
should  be  let  to  lie  useless,  it  was  well  that  the  candle-box 
was  thus  occupied,  for  candles  Martin  never  had.  A  pound 
was  issued  to  him  weekly  as  to  the  other  boys,  but  as  can- 
dles were  available  capital,  and  easily  exchangeable  for  birds' 
eggs  or  young  birds,   Martin's   pound   invariably  found  its 

[  283  ] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

way  in  a  few  hours  to  Howlett's  the  bird-fancier's,  in  the 
Bilton  road,  who  would  give  a  hawk's  or  nightingale's  egg 
or  young  linnet  in  exchange.  Martin's  ingenuity  was  there- 
fore for  ever  on  the  rack  to  supply  himself  with  a  light ; 
just  now  he  had  hit  upon  a  grand  invention,  and  the  den 
was  lighted  by  a  flaring  cotton-wick  issuing  from  a  ginger- 
beer  bottle  full  of  some  doleful  composition.  When  light 
altogether  failed  him,  Martin  would  loaf  about  by  the  fires 
in  the  passages  or  Hall,  after  the  manner  of  Diggs,  and 
try  to  do  his  verses  or  learn  his  lines  by  the  fire-light. 

'  Well,  old  boy,  you  have  n't  got  any  sweeter  in  the  den 
this  half.  How  that  stuff  in  the  bottle  stinks.  Never  mind, 
I  ain't  going  to  stop,  but  you  come  up  after  prayers  to  our 
study  ;  you  know  young  Arthur,  we  've  got  Gray's  study. 
We  '11  have  a  good  supper  and  talk  about  bird's-nesting.' 

Martin  was  evidently  highly  pleased  at  the  invitation, 
and  promised  to  be  up  without  fail. 

As  soon  as  prayers  were  over,  and  the  sixth  and  fifth- 
form  boys  had  withdrawn  to  the  aristocratic  seclusion  of 
their  own  room,  and  the  rest,  or  democracy,  had  sat  down 
to  their  supper  in  the  Hall ;  Tom  and  Arthur,  having 
secured  their  allowances  of  bread  and  cheese,  started  on 
their  feet  to  catch  the  eye  of  the  praepostor  of  the  week, 
who  remained  in  charge  during  supper,  walking  up  and 
down  the  Hall.  He  happened  to  be  an  easy-going  fellow, 
so  they' got  a  pleasant  nod  to  their  '  Please,  may  I  go  out .-' ' 
and  away  they  scrambled  to  prepare  for  Martin  a  sumptuous 
banquet.  This  Tom  had  insisted  on,  for  he  was  in  great 
delight  on  the  occasion  ;  the  reason  of  which  delight  must 
be  expounded.  The  fact  was  that  this  was  the  first  attempt 
at  a  friendship  of  his  own  which  Arthur  had  made,  and 

[284] 


TOM'S    RESPONSIBILITY 

Tom  hailed  it  as  a  grand  step.  The  ease  with  which  he 
himself  became  hail-fellow-well-met  with  anybody,  and  blun- 
dered into  and  out  of  twenty  friendships  a  half-year,  made 
him  sometimes  sorry  and  sometimes  angry  at  Arthur's 
reserve  and  loneliness.  True,  Arthur  was  always  pleasant, 
and  even  jolly,  with  any  boys  who  came  with  Tom  to  their 
study ;  but  Tom  felt  that  it  was  only  through  him,  as  it 
were,  that  his  chum  associated  with  others,  and  that  but  for 
him  Arthur  would  have  been  dwelling  in  a  wilderness.  This 
increased  his  consciousness  of  responsibility ;  and  though 
he  had  n't  reasoned  it  out  and  made  it  clear  to  himself,  yet 
somehow  he  knew  that  this  responsibility,  this  trust  which 
he  had  taken  on  him  without  thinking  about  it,  head-over- 
heels  in  fact,  was  the  centre  and  turning-point  of  his  school- 
life,  that  which  was  to  make  him  or  mar  him  ;  his  appointed 
work  and  trial  for  the  time  being.  And  Tom  was  becoming 
a  new  boy,  though  with  frequent  tumbles  in  the  dirt  and 
perpetual  hard  battle  with  himself,  and  was  daily  growing 
in  manfulness  and,  thoughtfulness,  as  every  high-couraged 
and  well-principled  boy  must,  when  he  finds  himself  for 
the  first  time  consciously  at  grips  with  self  and  the  devil. 
Already  he  could  turn,  almost  without  a  sigh,  from  the 
school-gates,  from  which  had  just  scampered  off  East  and 
three  or  four  others  of  his  own  particular  set,  bound  for 
some  jolly  lark  not  quite  according  to  law,  and  involving 
probably  a  row  with  louts,  keepers,  or  farm-labourers,  the 
skipping  dinner  or  calling-over,  some  of  Phoebe  Jennings' 
beer,  and  a  very  possible  flogging  at  the  end  of  all  as  a 
relish.  He  had  quite  got  over  the  stage  in  which  he  would 
grumble  to  himself,  '  Well,  hang  it,  it 's  very  hard  of  the 
Doctor  to   have   saddled   me  with   Arthur.     Why  could  n't 

[285] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

he  have  chummed  him  with  Fogey,  or  Thomkin,  or  any 
of  the  fellows  who  never  do  anything  but  walk  round  the 
close,  and  finish  their  copies  the  first  day  they  're  set  ? ' 
But  although  all  this  was  past,  he  often  longed,  and  felt 
that  he  was  right  in  longing,  for  more  time  for  the  legiti- 
mate pastimes  of  cricket,  fives,  bathing,  and  fishing  within 
bounds,  in  which  Arthur  could  not  yet  be  his  companion  ; 
and  he  felt  that  when  the  young  un  (as  he  now  generally 
called  him)  had  found  a  pursuit  and  some  other  friend  for 
himself,  he  should  be  able  to  give  more  time  to  the  educa- 
tion of  his  own  body  with  a  clear  conscience. 

And  now  what  he  so  wished  for  had  come  to  pass ;  he 
almost  hailed  it  as  a  special  providence  (as  indeed  it  was, 
but  not  for  the  reasons  he  gave  for  it  —  what  providences 
are  ?)  that  Arthur  should  have  singled  out  Martin  of  all 
fellows  for  a  friend.  'The  old  Madman  is  the  very  fellow,' 
thought  he  ;  '  he  will  take  him  scrambling  over  half  the 
country  after  birds'  eggs  and  flowers,  make  him  run  and 
swim  and  climb  like  an  Indian,  and  not  teach  him  a  word  of 
anything  bad,  or  keep  him  from  his  lessons.  What  luck ! ' 
And  so,  with  more  than  his  usual  heartiness,  he  dived  into 
his  cupboard,  and  hauled  out  an  old  knuckle-bone  of  ham, 
and  two  or  three  bottles  of  beer,  together  with  the  solemn 
pewter  only  used  on  state  occasions  ;  while  Arthur,  equally 
elated  at  the  easy  accomplishment  of  his  first  act  of  volition 
in  the  joint  establishment,  produced  from  his  side  a  bottle 
of  pickles  and  a  pot  of  jam,  and  cleared  the  table.  In  a 
minute  or  two  the  noise  of  the  boys  coming  up  from  supper 
was  heard,  and  Martin  knocked  and  was  admitted,  bearing 
his  bread  and  cheese,  and  the  three  fell  to  with  hearty  good- 
will upon  the  viands,  talking  faster  than  they  ate,  for  all 

[286] 


THE    SUPPER 

shyness  disappeared  in  a  moment  before  Tom's  bottled-beer 
and  hospitable  ways.  'Here's  Arthur,  a  regular  young  town- 
mouse,  with  a  natural  taste  for  the  woods,  Martin,  longing 
to  break  his  neck  climbing  trees,  and  with  a  passion  for 
young  snakes.' 

'Well,  I  say,'  sputtered  out  Martin  eagerly,  'will  you 
come  to-morrow,  both  of  you,  to  Caldecott's  Spinney,  then, 
for  I  know  of  a  kestrel's  nest,  up  a  fir-tree  —  I  can't 
get  at  it  without  help  ;  and,  Brown,  you  can  climb  against 
any  one.' 

'Oh  yes,  do  let  us  go,'  said  Arthur;  'I  never  saw  a 
hawk's   nest,    nor   a   hawk's   egg.' 

'  You  just  come  down  to  my  study  then,  and  I  '11  show 
you  five  sorts,'  said  Martin. 

'Aye,  the  old  Madman  has  got  the  best  collection  in  the 
house,  out-and-out,'  said  Tom  ;  and  then  Martin,  warming 
with  unaccustomed  good  cheer  and  the  chance  of  a  convert, 
launched  out  into  a  proposed  birds'-nesting  campaign,  be- 
traying all  manner,  of  important  secrets  ;  a  golden-crested 
wren's  nest  near  Butlin's  Mound,  a  moor-hen  who  was  sit- 
ting on  nine  eggs  in  a  pond  down  the  Barby  road,  and  a 
kingfisher's  nest  in  a  corner  of  the  old  canal  above  Browns- 
over  Mill.  He  had  heard,  he  said,  that  no  one  had  ever 
got  a  kingfisher's  nest  out  perfect,  and  that  the  British 
Museum,  or  the  Government,  or  somebody,  had  offered 
;^ioo  to  any  one  who  could  bring  them  a  nest  and  eggs 
not  damaged.  In  the  middle  of  which  astounding  announce- 
ment, to  which  the  others  were  listening  with  open  ears, 
and  already  considering  the  application  of  the  ;^ioo,  a 
knock  came  to  the  door,  and  East's  voice  was  heard  craving 
admittance. 

[287] 


TOM    BROWxN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

'There's  Harry,'  said  Tom;  'we'll  let  him  in  —  I'll 
keep  him  steady,  Martin.  I  thought  the  old  boy  would 
smell  out  the  supper.' 

The  fact  was  that  Tom's  heart  had  already  smitten  him 
for  not  asking  his  '  fidus  Achates '  to  the  feast,  although  only 
an  extempore  affair ;  and  though  prudence  and  the  desire  to 
get  Martin  and  Arthur  together  alone  at  first  had  overcome 
his  scruples,  he  was  now  heartily  glad  to  open  the  door, 
broach  another  bottle  of  beer,  and  hand  over  the  old  ham- 
knuckle  to  the  searching  of  his  old  friend's  pocket-knife, 

'Ah,  you  greedy  vagabonds,'  said  East,  with  his  mouth 
full,  '  I  knew  there  was  something  going  on  when  I  saw 
you  cut  off  out  of  Hall  so  quick  with  your  suppers.  What 
a  stunning  tap,  Tom !  you  are  a  wunner  for  bottling 
the  swipes.' 

*  I  've  had  practice  enough  for  the  sixth  in  my  time,  and 
it 's  hard  if  I  have  n't  picked  up  a  wrinkle  or  two  for  my 
own  benefit.' 

'  Well,  old  Madman,  and  how  goes  the  birds'-nesting 
campaign  .?  How  's  Howlett  ?  I  expect  the  young  rooks  '11 
be   out   in   another   fortnight,    and    then    my    turn   comes.' 

'  There  '11  be  no  young  rooks  fit  for  pies  for  a  month  yet ; 
shows  how  much  you  know  about  it,'  rejoined  Martin,  who, 
though  very  good  friends  with  East,  regarded  him  with  con- 
siderable suspicion  for  his  propensity  to  practical  jokes. 

*  Scud  knows  nothing  and  cares  for  nothing  but  grub 
and  mischief,'  said  Tom;  'but  young  rook  pie,  specially 
when  you  've  had  to  climb  for  them,  is  very  pretty  eating. 
However,  I  say,  Scud,  we  're  all  going  after  a  hawk's  nest 
to-morrow,  in  Caldecott's  Spinney ;  and  if  you  '11  come  and 
behave  yourself,  we  '11  have  a  stunning  climb.' 

[  -^88  ] 


THE    SUPPER 

'And  a  bathe  in  Aganippe,    Hooray!   I'm  your  man.' 

'  No,  no ;  no  bathing  in  Aganippe ;  that's  where  our 
betters  go.' 

'Well,  well,  never  mind.  I'm  for  the  hawk's  nest  and 
anything  that  turns  up.' 

And  the  bottled-beer  being  finished,  and  his  hunger 
appeased,  East  departed  to  his  study,  'that  sneak  Jones,' 
as  he  informed  them,  who  had  just  got  into  the  sixth 
and  occupied  the  next  study,  having  instituted  a  nightly 
visitation  upon  East  and  his  chum,  to  their  no  small 
discomfort. 

When  he  was  gone,  Martin  rose  to  follow,  but  Tom 
stopped  him.  'No  one  goes  near  New  Row,'  said  he,  'so 
you  may  just  as  well  stop  here  and  do  your  verses,  and 
then  we  '11  have  some  more  talk.  We  '11  be  no  end  quiet ; 
besides,  no  praepostor  comes  here  now  —  we  haven't  been 
visited  once  this  half.' 

So  the  table  was  cleared,  the  cloth  restored,  and  the 
three  fell  to  work'  with  Gradus  and  dictionary  upon  the 
morning's   vulgus. 

They  were  three  very  fair  examples  of  the  way  in  which 
such  tasks  were  done  at  Rugby,  in  the  consulship  of  Plancus. 
And  doubtless  the  method  is  little  changed,  for  there  is 
nothing  new  under  the  sun,  especially  at  schools. 

Now  be  it  known  unto  all  you  boys  who  are  at  schools 
which  do  not  rejoice  in  the  time-honoured  institution  of 
the  vulgus  (commonly  supposed  to  have  been  established 
by  William  of  Wykeham  at  Winchester,  and  imported  to 
Rugby  by  Arnold,  more  for  the  sake  of  the  lines  which 
were  learnt  by  heart  with  it  than  for  its  own  intrinsic  value, 
as  I  've  always  understood),  that  it  is  a  short  exercise,  in 

[289] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

Greek  or  Latin  verse,  on  a  given  subject,  tlie  minimum 
number  of  lines  being  fixed  for  each  form.  The  master  of 
the  form  gave  out  at  fourth  lesson  on  the  previous  day 
the  subject  for  next  morning's  vulgus,  and  at  first  lesson 
each  boy  had  to  bring  his  vulgus  ready  to  be  looked  over ; 
and  with  the  vulgus,  a  certain  number  of  lines  from  one  of 
the  Latin  or  Greek  poets  then  being  construed  in  the  form 
had  to  be  got  by  heart.  The  master  at  first  lesson  called 
up  each  boy  in  the  form  in  order,  and  put  him  on  in  the 
lines.  If  he  could  n't  say  them,  or  seem  to  say  them,  by 
reading  them  off  the  master's  or  some  other  boy's  book 
who  stood  near,  he  was  sent  back,  and  went  below  all  the 
boys  who  did  so  say  or  seem  to  say  them  ;  but  in  either 
case  his  vulgus  was  looked  over  by  the  master,  who  gave 
and  entered  in  his  book,  to  the  credit  or  discredit  of  the 
boy,  so  many  marks  as  the  composition  merited.  At  Rugby 
vulgus  and  lines  were  the  first  lesson  every  other  day  in 
the  week,  on  Tuesdays,  Thursdays,  and  Saturdays ;  and  as 
there  were  thirty-eight  weeks  in  the  school  year,  it  is  obvi- 
ous to  the  meanest  capacity  that  the  master  of  each  form 
had  to  set  one  hundred  and  fourteen  subjects  every  year, 
two  hundred  and  twenty-eight  every  two  years,  and  so  on. 
Now  to  persons  of  moderate  invention  this  was  a  consider- 
able task,  and  human  nature  being  prone  to  repeat  itself,  it 
will  not  be  wondered  that  the  masters  gave  the  same  sub- 
jects sometimes  over  again  after  a  certain  lapse  of  time. 
To  meet  and  rebuke  this  bad  habit  of  the  masters,  the 
school-boy  mind,  with  its  accustomed  ingenuity,  had  invented 
an  elaborate  system  of  tradition.  Almost  every  boy  kept  his 
own  vulgus  written  out  in  a  book,  and  these  books  were 
duly  handed  down  from  boy  to  boy,  till  (if  the  tradition  has 

[290] 


VULGUSES 

gone  on  till  now)  I  suppose  the  popular  boys,  in  whose 
hands  bequeathed  vulgus-books  have  accumulated,  are  pre- 
pared with  three  or  four  vulguses  on  any  subject  in  heaven 
or  earth,  or  in  'more  worlds  than  one,'  which  an  unfortu- 
nate master  can  pitch  upon.  At  any  rate,  such  lucky  fellows 
had  generally  one  for  themselves  and  one  for  a  friend  in 
my  time.  The  only  objection  to  the  traditionary  method  of 
doing  your  vulguses  was,  the  risk  that  the  successions  might 
have  become  confused,  and  so  that  you  and  another  fol- 
lower of  traditions  should  show  up  the  same  identical  vul- 
gus  some  fine  morning ;  in  which  case,  when  it  happened, 
considerable  grief  was  the  result  —  but  when  did  such  risk 
hinder  boys  or  men  from  short  cuts  and  pleasant  paths  ? 

Now  in  the  study  that  night,  Tom  was  the  upholder  of 
the  traditionary  method  of  vulgus  doing.  He  carefully  pro- 
duced two  large  vulgus-books,  and  began  diving  into  them, 
and  picking  out  a  line  here,  and  an  ending  there  (tags  as 
they  were  vulgarly  called),  till  he  had  gotten  all  that  he 
thought  he  could  make  fit.  He  then  proceeded  to  patch  his 
tags  together  with  the  help  of  his  Gradus,  producing  an 
incongruous  and  feeble  result  of  eight  elegiac  lines,  the 
minimum  quantity  for  his  form,  and  finishing  up  with  two 
highly  moral  lines  extra,  making  ten  in  all,  which  he  cribbed 
entire  from  one  of  his  books,  beginning  '  O  genus  humanum,' 
and  which  he  himself  must  have  used  a  dozen  times  before, 
whenever  an  unfortunate  or  wicked  hero,  of  whatever  nation 
or  language  under  the  sun,  was  the  subject.  Indeed  he 
began  to  have  great  doubts  whether  the  master  would  n't 
remember  them,  and  so  only  threw  them  in  as  extra  lines, 
because  in  any  case  they  would  call  off  attention  from  the 
other  tags,  and  if  detected,  being  extra  lines,  he  would  n't 

[291] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

be  sent  back  to  do  two  more  in  their  place,  while  if  they 
passed  muster  again  he  would  get  marks  for  them. 

The  second  method  pursued  by  Martin  may  be  called 
the  dogged,  or  prosaic  method.  He,  no  more  than  Tom, 
took  any  pleasure  in  the  task,  but  having  no  old  vulgus- 
books  of  his  own,  or  any  one's  else,  could  not  follow  the 
traditionary  method,  for  which  too,  as  Tom  remarked,  he 
hadn't  the  genius.  Martin  then  proceeded  to  write  down 
eight  lines  in  English,  of  the  most  matter-of-fact  kind,  the 
first  that  came  into  his  head  ;  and  to  convert  these,  line  by 
line,  by  main  force  of  Gradus  and  dictionary,  into  Latin 
that  would  scan.  This  was  all  he  cared  for,  to  produce 
eight  lines  with  no  false  quantities  or  concords  :  whether 
the  words  were  apt,  or  what  the  sense  was,  mattered  noth- 
ing ;  and,  as  the  article  was  all  new,  not  a  line  beyond 
the  minimum  did  the  followers  of  the  dogged  method 
ever  produce. 

The  third,  or  artistic  method,  was  Arthur's.  He  con- 
sidered first  what  point  in  the  character  or  event  which  was 
the  subject  could  most  neatly  be  brought  out  within  the 
limits  of  a  vulgus,  trying  always  to  get  his  idea  into  the 
eight  lines,  but  not  binding  himself  to  ten  or  even  twelve 
lines  if  he  could  n't  do  this.  He  then  set  to  work,  as  much 
as  possible  without  Gradus  or  other  help,  to  clothe  his  idea 
in  appropriate  Latin  or  Greek,  and  would  not  be  satisfied 
till  he  had  polished  it  well  up  with  the  aptest  and  most 
poetic  words  and  phrases  he  could  get  at. 

A  fourth  method  indeed  was  used  in  the  school,  but  of 
too  simple  a  kind  to  require  a  comment.  It  may  be  called 
the  vicarious  method,  obtained  amongst  big  boys  of  lazy  or 
bullying  habits,  and  consisted  simply  in  making  clever  boys 

[292] 


THE    SCIENCE    OF   VERSE-MAKING 

whom  they  could  thrash  do  their  whole  vulgus  for  them, 
and  construe  it  to  them  afterwards ;  which  latter  is  a 
method  not  to  be  encouraged,  and  which  I  strongly  advise 
you  all  not  to  practise.  Of  the  others,  you  will  find  the 
traditionary  most  troublesome,  unless  you  can  steal  your 
vulguses  whole  (cxperto  crcdc),  and  that  the  artistic  method 
pays  the  best  both  in  marks  and  other  ways. 

The  vulguses  being  finished  by  nine  o'clock,  and  Martin 
having  rejoiced  above  measure  in  the  abundance  of  light, 
and  of  Gradus  and  dictionary,  and  other  conveniences 
almost  unknown  to  him  for  getting  through  the  work,  and 
having  been  pressed  by  Arthur  to  come  and  do  his  verses 
there  whenever  he  liked,  the  three  boys  went  down  to 
Martin's  den,  and  Arthur  was  initiated  into  the  lore  of 
birds'  eggs,  to  his  great  delight.  The  exquisite  colouring 
and  forms  astonished  and  charmed  him,  who  had  scarcely 
ever  seen  any  but  a  hen's  egg  or  an  ostrich's,  and  by  the 
time  he  was  lugged  away  to  bed  he  had  learned  the  names 
of  at  least  twenty  sorts,  and  dreamt  of  the  glorious  perils 
of  tree-climbing,  and  that  he  had  found  a  roc's  Qgg  in  the 
island  as  big  as  Sinbad's,  and  clouded  like  a  tit-lark's,  in 
blowing  which  Martin  and  he  had  nearly  been  drowned 
in   the  yolk. 


[293] 


Cfepfer  JV 

•/  have  found  out  a  gift  for  my  fair, 

I  have  found  where  the  wood-pigeons  breed: 
But  let  me  the  plunder  forbear. 

She  would  say  '/  was  a  barbarous  deed. ' 

ROWE 

'And  now,  my  lad,  take  them  five  shilling. 

And  on  my  advice  in  future  think  ; 
So  Billy  pouched  them  all  so  willing. 
And  got  that  night  disguised  in  drink. ' 

MS.  Ballad 

HE  next  morning  at  first  lesson  Tom  was 
turned  back  in  his  lines,  and  so  had  to 
wait  till  the  second  round,  while  Martin 
and  Arthur  said  theirs  all  right  and  got 
out  of  school  at  once.  When  Tom  got 
out  and  ran  down  to  breakfast  at  Harro- 
well's  they  were  missing,  and  Stumps  informed  him  that 
they  had  swallowed  down  their  breakfasts  and  gone  off 
together,  where,  he  could  n't  say.  Tom  hurried  over  his 
own  breakfast,  and  went  first  to  Martin's  study  and  then 

[294] 


TOM    PUT   OUT 

to  his  own,  but  no  signs  of  the  missing  boys  were  to  be 
found.  He  felt  half  angry  and  jealous  of  Martin  —  where 
could  they  be  gone  ? 

He  learnt  second  lesson  with  East  and  the  rest  in  no 
very  good  temper,  and  then  went  out  into  the  quadrangle. 
About  ten  minutes  before  school  Martin  and  Arthur  arrived 
in  the  quadrangle  breathless  ;  and,  catching  sight  of  him, 
Arthur  rushed  up,  all  excitement,  and  with  a  bright  glow 
on  his  face. 

'  Oh,  Tom,  look  here,'  cried  he,  holding  out  three  moor- 
hen's eggs;  'we've  been  down  the  Barby  road  to  the  pool 
Martin  told  us  of  last  night,  and  just  see  what  we  've  got.' 

Tom  would  n't  be  pleased,  and  only  looked  out  for  some- 
thing to  find  fault  with. 

'  Why,  young  un, '  said  he,  '  what  have  you  been  after  ? 
You  don't  mean  to  say  you  've  been  wading  ? ' 

The  tone  of  reproach  made  poor  little  Arthur  shrink  up 
in  a  moment  and  look  piteous,  and  Tom  with  a  shrug  of 
his  shoulders  turned  his  anger  on  Martin. 

'  Well,  I  did  n't  think.  Madman,  that  you  'd  have  been 
such  a  muff  as  to  let  him  be  getting  wet  through  at  this 
time  of  day.    You  might  have  done  the  wading  yourself.' 

'  So  I  did,  of  course,  only  he  would  come  in  too,  to  see 
the  nest.  We  left  six  eggs  in  ;  they  '11  be  hatched  in  a  day 
or  two.' 

'  Hang  the  eggs  !  '  said  Tom  ;  '  a  fellow  can't  turn  his 
back  for  a  moment  but  all  his  work  's  undone.  He  '11  be 
laid  up  for  a  week  for  this  precious  lark,   I  '11  be  bound.' 

'  Indeed,  Tom,  now,'  pleaded  Arthur,  '  my  feet  ain't 
wet,  for  Martin  made  me  take  off  my  shoes  and  stockings 
and  trousers.' 

[295] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

*  But  they  are  wet  and  dirty,  too  —  can't  I  see  ? '  answered 
Tom ;  '  and  you  '11  be  called  up  and  floored  when  the 
master  sees  what  a  state  you  're  in.  You  have  n't  looked  at 
second  lesson,  you  know.'  Oh,  Tom,  you  old  humbug !  you 
to  be  upbraiding  any  one  with  not  learning  their  lessons. 
If  you  had  n't  been  floored  yourself  now  at  first  lesson,  do 
you  mean  to  say  you  would  n't  have  been  with  them  ?  and 
you  've  taken  away  all  poor  little  Arthur's  joy  and  pride  in 
his  first  birds'  eggs,  and  he  goes  and  puts  them  down  in 
the  study,  and  takes  down  his  books  with  -a  sigh,  thinking 
he  has  done  something  horribly  wrong,  whereas  he  has 
learnt  on  in  advance  much  more  than  will  be  done  at 
second  lesson. 

But  the  old  Madman  has  n't,  and  gets  called  up  and 
makes  some  frightful  shots,  losing  about  ten  places,  and  all 
but  getting  floored.  This  somewhat  appeases  Tom's  wrath, 
and  by  the  end  of  the  lesson  he  has  regained  his  temper. 
And  afterwards  in  their  study  he  begins  to  get  right  again, 
as  he  watches  Arthur's  intense  joy  at  seeing  Martin  blow- 
ing the  eggs  and  glueing  them  carefully  on  to  bits  of  card- 
board, and  notes  the  anxious  loving  looks  which  the  little 
fellow  casts  sidelong  at  him.  And  then  he  thinks,  *  What 
an  ill-tempered  beast  I  am  !  Here  's  just  what  I  was  wish- 
ing for  last  night  come  about,  and  I'm  spoiling  it  all,'  and 
in  another  five  minutes  has  swallowed  the  last  mouthful  of 
his  bile,  and  is  repaid  by  seeing  his  little  sensitive  plant 
expand  again,  and  sun  itself  in  his  smiles. 

After  dinner  the  Madman  is  busy  with  the  preparations 
for  their  expedition,  fitting  new  straps  on  to  his  climbing- 
irons,  filling  large  pill-boxes  with  cotton-wool,  and  sharpen- 
ing East's  small  axe.    They  carry  all  their  munitions  into 

[296] 


BIRD'S-NESTING 

calling-over,  and  directly  afterwards,  having  dodged  such 
praepostors  as  are  on  the  look-out  for  fags  at  cricket,  the 
four  set  off  at  a  smart  trot  down  the  Lawford  footpath 
straight  for  Caldecott's  Spinney  and  the  hawk's  nest. 

Martin  leads  the  way  in  high  feather ;  it  is  quite  a  new 
sensation  to  him,  getting  companions,  and  he  finds  it  very 
pleasant,  and  means  to  show  them  all  manner  of  proofs  of 
his  science  and  skill.  Brown  and  East  may  be  better  at 
cricket  and  football  and  games,  thinks  he,  but  out  in  the 
fields  and  woods,  see  if  I  can't  teach  them  something.  He 
has  taken  the  leadership  already,  and  strides  away  in  front 
with  his  climbing-irons  strapped  under  one  arm,  his  pecking- 
bag  under  the  other,  and  his  pockets  and  hat  full  of  pill- 
boxes, cotton- wool,  and  other  et  ceteras.  Each  of  the  others 
carries  a  pecking-bag,  and  East  his  hatchet. 

When  they  had  crossed  three  or  four  fields  without  a 
check,  Arthur  began  to  lag,  and  Tom,  seeing  this,  shouted 
to  Martin  to  pull  up  a  bit :  *  We  ain't  out  Hare-and-hounds 
—  what 's  the  good'  of  grinding  on  at  this  rate  .-'  ' 

'There's  the  Spinney,'  said  Martin,  pulling  up  on  the 
brow  of  a  slope  at  the  bottom  of  which  lay  Lawford  brook, 
and  pointing  to  the  top  of  the  opposite  slope  ;  *  the  nest  is 
in  one  of  those  high  fir-trees  at  this  end.  And  down  by 
the  brook  there  I  know  of  a  sedge-bird's  nest ;  we  '11  go 
and  look  at  it  coming  back.' 

'Oh,  come  on,  don't  let  us  stop,'  said  Arthur,  who  was 
getting  excited  at  the  sight  of  the  wood  ;  so  they  broke 
into  a  trot  again,  and  were  soon  across  the  brook,  up  the 
slope,  and  into  the  Spinney.  Here  they  advanced  as  noise- 
lessly as  possible,  lest  keepers  or  other  enemies  should  be 
about,  and  stopped  at  the  foot  of  a  tall  fir,  at  the  top  of 

[297] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

which  Martin  pointed  out  with  pride  the  kestrel's  nest,  the 
object  of  their  quest. 

'  Oh,  where  ?  which  is  it  ? '  asks  Arthur,  gaping  up  in 
the  air,  and  having  the  most  vague  idea  of  what  it  would 
be  like. 

'  There,  don't  you  see  ? '  said  East,  pointing  to  a  lump  of 
mistletoe  in  the  next  tree,  which  was  a  beech  :  he  saw  that 
Martin  and  Tom  were  busy  with  the  climbing-irons,  and 
could  n't  resist  the  temptation  of  hoaxing.  Arthur  stared 
and  wondered  more  than  ever. 

'  Well,  how  curious  !  it  does  n't  look  a  bit  like  what  I 
expected,'  said  he. 

'Very  odd  birds,  kestrels,'  said  East,  looking  waggishly 
at  his  victim,  who  was  still  star-gazing. 

'But  I  thought  it  was  in  a  fir-tree?  '  objected  Arthur. 

'  Ah,  don't  you  know .?  that 's  a  new  sort  of  fir  which  old 
Caldecott  brought  from  the  Himalayas.' 

'Really!'  said  Arthur;  'I'm  glad  I  know  that  —  how 
unlike  our  firs  they  are  !  They  do  very  well  too  here,  don't 
they.''  the  Spinney's  full  of  them.' 

'  What 's  that  humbug  he  's  telling  you  .? '  cried  Tom, 
looking  up,  having  caught  the  word  Himalayas,  and  sus- 
pecting what   East  was  after. 

'Only  about  this  fir,'  said  Arthur,  putting  his  hand  on 
the  stem  of  the  beech. 

'  Fir !  '  shouted  Tom,  '  why,  you  don't  mean  to  say,  young 
un,  you  don't  know  a  beech  when  you  see  one  ? ' 

Poor  little  Arthur  looked  terribly  ashamed,  and  East 
exploded  in  laughter  which  made  the  wood  ring. 

'I  've  hardly  ever  seen  any  trees,'  faltered  Arthur. 

'  What   a    shame    to    hoax    him,    Scud !  '    cried    Martin. 

[298] 


BIRD'S-NESTING 

'  Never  mind,  Arthur,  you  shall  know  more  about  trees 
than   he   does   in   a  week   or   two.' 

'And  isn't  that  the  kestrel's  nest,  then?'  asked  Arthur. 

'  That !  why,  that 's  a  piece  of  mistletoe.  There 's  the 
nest,  that   lump   of   sticks   up   this   fir.' 

'Don't  believe  him,  Arthur,'  struck  in  the  incorrigible 
East ;    '  I   just   saw   an   old   magpie   go   out  of   it,' 

Martin  did  not  deign  to  reply  to  this  sally,  except  by 
a  grunt,  as  he  buckled  the  last  buckle  of  his  climbing- 
irons  ;  and  Arthur  looked  reproachfully  at  East  without 
speaking. 

But  now  came  the  tug  of  war.  It  was  a  very  difficult 
tree  to  climb  until  the  branches  were  reached,  the  first  of 
which  was  some  fourteen  feet  up,  for  the  trunk  was  too 
large  at  the  bottom  to  be  swarmed  ;  in  fact,  neither  of  the 
boys  could  reach  more  than  half  round  it  with  their  arms. 
Martin  and  Tom,  both  of  whom  had  irons  on,  tried  it  with- 
out success  at  first ;  the  fir  bark  broke  away  where  they 
stuck  the  irons  in  as'  soon  as  they  leant  any  weight  on  their 
feet,  and  the  grip  of  their  arms  was  n't  enough  to  keep 
them  up  ;  so,  after  getting  up  three  or  four  feet,  down  they 
came  slithering  to  the  ground,  barking  their  arms  and  faces. 
They  were  furious,  and  East  sat  by  laughing  and  shouting 
at  each  failure,  '  Two  to  one  on  the  old  magpie  ! ' 

'  We  must  try  a  pyramid,'  said  Tom  at  last.  *  Now,  Scud, 
you  lazy  rascal,  stick  yourself  against  the  tree !  ' 

'  I  dare  say !  and  have  you  standing  on  my  shoulders 
with  the  irons  on  :  what  do  you  think  my  skin  's  made  of?' 
However,  up  he  got,  and  leant  against  the  tree,  putting  his 
head  down  and  clasping  it  with  his  arms  as  far  as  he  could. 
'Now  then,  Madman,'  said  Tom,  'you  next.' 

[299] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 


'No,  I'm  lighter  than  you;  you  go  next,'  So  Tom  got 
on  East's  shoulders,  and  grasped  the  tree  above,  and  then 
Martin  scrambled  up  on  to  Tom's  shoulders,  amidst  the 
totterings  and  groanings  of  the  pyramid,  and,  with  a  spring 
which  sent  his  supporters  howling  to  the  ground,  clasped 
the  stem  some  ten  feet  up,  and  remained  clinging.  For  a 
moment  or  two  they  thought  he  could  n't  get  up,  but  then, 
holding  on  with  arms  and  teeth,  he  worked  first  one  iron, 
then  the  other,  firmly  into  the  bark,  got  another  grip 
with  his  arms,  and  in  another  minute  had  hold  of  the 
lowest  branch 

'All  up  with  the  old  magpie  now,'  said  East;  and,  after 
a  minute's  rest,  up  went  Martin,  hand  over  hand,  watched 
by  Arthur  with  fearful  eagerness. 

*  Is  n't  it  very  dangerous  ? '  said  he. 

'Not  a  bit,'  answered  Tom;  'you  can't  hurt  if  you  only 
get  good  hand-hold.  Try  ever)'  branch  with  a  good  pull 
before  you  trust  it,  and  then  up  you  go.' 

Martin  was  now  amongst  the  small  branches  close  to  the 
nest,  and  away  dashed  the  old  bird,  and  soared  up  above 
the  trees,  watching  the  intruder. 

'  All  right  —  four  eggs  !  '  shouted  he. 

'  Take  'em  all ! '  shouted  East ;  '  that  '11  be  one  apiece.' 

'  No,  no !  leave  one,  and  then  she  won't  care,'  said  Tom. 

We  boys  had  an  idea  that  birds  could  n't  count,  and  were 
quite  content  as  long  as  you  left  one  egg.    I  hope  it  is  so. 

Martin  carefully  put  one  egg  into  each  of  his  boxes,  and 
the  third  into  his  mouth,  the  only  other  place  of  safety, 
and  came  down  like  a  lamplighter.  All  went  well  fill  he 
was  within  ten  feet  of  the  ground,  when,  as  the  trunk 
enlarged,  his  hold  got  less  and  less  firm,  and  at  last  down 

[300] 


PECKING 

he  came  with  a  run,  tumbhng  on  to  his  back  on  the  turf, 
spluttering  and  spitting  out  the  remains  of  the  great  egg, 
which  had  brol^en  by  the  jar  of  his  fall. 

'Ugh,  ugh!  something  to  drink  —  ugh!  it  was  addled,' 
spluttered  he,  while  the  wood  rang  again  with  the  merry 
laughter  of  East  and  Tom. 

Then  they  examined  the  prizes,  gathered  up  their  things, 
and  went  off  to  the  brook,  where  Martin  swallowed  huge 
draughts  of  water  to  get  rid  of  the  taste  ;  and  they  visited 
the  sedge-bird's  nest,  and  from  thence  struck  across  the 
country  in  high  glee,  beating  the  hedges  and  brakes  as 
they  went  along ;  and  Arthur  at  last,  to  his  intense  delight, 
was  allowed  to  climb  a  small  hedgerow  oak  for  a  magpie's 
nest  with  Tom,  who  kept  all  round  him  like  a  mother,  and 
showed  him  where  to  hold  and  how  to  throw  his  weight ; 
and  though  he  was  in  a  great  fright,  didn't  show  it;  and 
was  applauded  by  all  for  his  lissomness. 

They  crossed  a  road  soon  afterwards,  and  there  close  to 
them  lay  a  heap  of -charming  pebbles. 

'  Look  here,'  shouted  East,  '  here  's  luck  !  I've  been  long- 
ing for  some  good  honest  pecking  this  half-hour.  Let 's  fill 
the  bags,  and  have  no  more  of  this  foozling  bird's-nesting,' 

No  one  objected,  so  each  boy  filled  the  fustian  bag  he 
carried  full  of  stones :  they  crossed  into  the  next  field, 
Tom  and  East  taking  one  side  of  the  hedges,  and  the 
other  two  the  other  side.  Noise  enough  they  made  cer- 
tainly, but  it  was  too  early  in  the  season  for  the  young 
birds,  and  the  old  birds  were  too  strong  on  the  wing  for 
our  young  marksmen,  and  flew  out  of  shot  after  the  first 
discharge.  But  it  was  great  fun,  rushing  along  the  hedge- 
rows, and  discharging   stone  after  stone  at  blackbirds  and 

[301  ] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

chaffinches,  though  no  result  in  the  shape  of  slaughtered 
birds  was  obtained  ;  and  Arthur  soon  entered  into  it,  and 
rushed  to  head  back  the  birds,  and  shouted,  and  threw, 
and  tumbled  into  ditches  and  over  and  through  hedges,  as 
wild  as  the  Madman  himself. 

Presently  the  party,  in  full  cry  after  an  old  blackbird 
(who  was  evidently  used  to  the  thing  and  enjoyed  the  fun, 
for  he  would  wait  till  they  came  close  to  him  and  then  fly 
on  for  forty  yards  or  so,  and,  with  an  impudent  flicker  of 
his  tail,  dart  into  the  depths  of  the  quickset),  came  beating 
down  a  high  double  hedge,  two  on  each  side. 

'There  he  is  again,'  'Head  him,'  'Let  drive,'  'I  had 
him  there,'  'Take  care  where  you're  throwing,  Madman,' 
the  shouts  might  have  been  heard  a  quarter  of  a  mile  off. 
They  were  heard  some  two  hundred  yards  off  by  a  farmer 
and  two  of  his  shepherds,  who  were  doctoring  sheep  in  a 
fold  in  the  next  field. 

Now,  the  farmer  in  question  rented  a  house  and  yard 
situate  at  the  end  of  the  field  in  which  the  young  bird- 
fanciers  had  arrived,  which  house  and  yard  he  did  n't 
occupy  or  keep  any  one  else  in.  Nevertheless,  like  a  brain- 
less and  unreasoning  Briton,  he  persisted  in  maintaining 
on  the  premises  a  large  stock  of  cocks,  hens,  and  other 
poultry.  Of  course,  all  sorts  of  depredators  visited  the  place 
from  time  to  time  :  foxes  and  gipsies  wrought  havoc  in  the 
night ;  while  in  the  day-time,  I  regret  to  have  to  confess 
that  visits  from  the  Rugby  boys,  and  consequent  disappear- 
ances of  ancient  and  respectable  fowls,  were  not  unfrequent. 
Tom  and  East  had  during  the  period  of  their  outlawry 
visited  the  barn  in  question  for  felonious  purposes,  and  on 
one   occasion   had   conquered  and  slain  a  duck  there,  and 

[302  ] 


THE    TROUBLESOME    DUCK 

borne  away  the  carcass  triumphantly,  hidden  in  their  hand- 
kerchiefs. However,  they  were  sickened  of  the  practice  by 
the  trouble  and  anxiety  which  the  wretched  duck's  body 
caused  them.  They  carried  it  to  Sally  Harrowell's,  in  hopes 
of  a  good  supper ;  but  she,  after  examining  it,  made  a  long 
face,  and  refused  to  dress  or  have  anything  to  do  with  it. 
Then  they  took  it  into  their  study,  and  began  plucking  it 
themselves ;  but  what  to  do  with  the  feathers,  where  to 
hide  them  .'' 

'  Good  gracious,  Tom,  what  a  lot  of  feathers  a  duck 
has !  '  groaned  East,  holding  a  bagful  in  his  hand,  and 
looking  disconsolately  at  the  carcass,  not  yet  half  plucked. 

'And  I  do  think  he's  getting  high  too,  already,'  said 
Tom,  smelling  at  him  cautiously,  '  so  we  must  finish  him 
up  soon.' 

'Yes,  all  very  well,  but  how  are  we  to  cook  him.-*  I'm 
sure  I  ain't  going  to  try  it  on  in  the  hall  or  passages  ;  we 
can't  afford  to  be  roasting  ducks  about,  our  character 's 
too  bad.' 

'  I  wish  we  were  rid  of  the  brute,'  said  Tom,  throwing 
him  on  the  table  in  disgust.  And  after  a  day  or  two  more 
it  became  clear  that  got  rid  of  he  must  be ;  so  they  packed 
him  and  sealed  him  up  in  brown  paper,  and  put  him  in 
the  cupboard  of  an  unoccupied  study,  where  he  was  found 
in  the  holidays  by  the  matron,  a  gruesome  body. 

They  had  never  been  duck-hunting  there  since,  but 
others  had,  and  the  bold  yeoman  was  very  sore  on  the 
subject,  and  bent  on  making  an  example  of  the  first  boys 
he  could  catch.  So  he  and  his  shepherds  crouched  behind 
the  hurdles,  and  watched  the  party  wiio  were  approaching 
all  unconscious. 

[303] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

Why  should  that  old  guinea-fowl  be  lying  out  in  the 
hedge  just  at  this  particular  moment  of  all  the  year  ?  Who 
can  say  ?  Guinea-fowls  always  are  —  so  are  all  other  things, 
animals,  and  persons  requisite  for  getting  one  into  scrapes, 
always  ready  when  any  mischief  can  come  of  them.  At  any 
rate,  just  under  East's  nose  popped  out  the  old  guinea-hen, 
scuttling  along  and  shrieking  '  Come  back,  come  back,'  at 
the  top  of  her  voice.  Either  of  the  other  three  might  per- 
haps have  withstood  the  temptation,  but  East  first  lets  drive 
the  stone  he  has  in  his  hand  at  her,  and  then  rushes  to 
turn  her  into  the  hedge  again.  He  succeeds,  and  then  they 
are  all  at  it  for  dear  life,  up  and  down  the  hedge  in  full  cry, 
the  '  Come  back,  come  back,'  getting  shriller  and  fainter 
every  minute. 

Meantime,  the  farmer  and  his  men  steal  over  the  hurdles 
and  creep  down  the  hedge  towards  the  scene  of  action. 
They  are  almost  within  a  stone's  throw  of  Martin,  who  is 
pressing  the  unlucky  chase  hard,  when  Tom  catches  sight 
of  them,  and  sings  out,  '  Louts,  'ware  louts,  your  side ! 
Madman,  look  ahead  !  '  and  then,  catching  hold  of  Arthur, 
hurries  him  away  across  the  field  towards  Rugby  as  hard  as 
they  can  tear.  Had  he  been  by  himself,  he  would  have 
stayed  to  see  it  out  with  the  others,  but  now  his  heart  sinks 
and  all  his  pluck  goes.  The  idea-  of  being  led  up  to  the 
Doctor  with  Arthur  for  bagging  fowls  quite  unmans  and 
takes  half  the  run  out  of  him. 

However,  no  boys  are  more  able  to  take  care  of  them- 
selves than  East  and  Martin ;  they  dodge  the  pursuers, 
slip  through  a  gap,  and  come  pelting  after  Tom  and  Arthur, 
whom  they  catch  up  in  no  time  ;  the  farmer  and  his  men 
are  making  good  running  about  a  field  behind.    Tom  wishes 

[304] 


'STEAL   OVF,  li   THE    HURDLES   AND   C  R  E  E  1'    DOWN    THE 
HEDGE  TOWARDS  THE  SCENE  OF  ACTION' 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

to  himself  that  they  had  made  off  in  any  other  direction, 
but  now  they  are  all  in  for  it  together,  and  must  see  it  out. 
*  You  won't  leave  the  young  un,  will  you  ? '  says  he,  as  they 
haul  poor  little  Arthur,  already  losing  wirid  from  the  fright, 
through  the  next  hedge.  '  Not  we,'  is  the  answer  from 
both.  The  next  hedge  is  a  stiff  one ;  the  pursuers  gain 
horribly  on  them,  and  they  only  just  pull  Arthur  through, 
with  two  great  rents  in  his  trousers,  as  the  foremost  shep- 
herd comes-  up  on  the  other  side.  As  they  start  into  the 
next  field,  they  are  aware  of  two  figures  walking  down  the 
footpath  in  the  middle  of  it,  and  recognize  Holmes  and 
Diggs  taking  a  constitutional.  Those  good-natured  fellows 
immediately  shout  '  On.'  '  Let 's  go  to  them  and  surrender,' 
pants  Tom.  —  Agreed.  —  And  in  another  minute  the  four 
boys,  to  the  great  astonishment  of  those  worthies,  rush 
breathless  up  to  Holmes  and  Diggs,  who  pull  up  to  see 
what  is  the  rnatter ;  and  then  the  whole  is  explained  by  the 
appearance  of  the  farmer  and  his  men,  who  unite  their 
forces  and  bear  down  on  the  knot  of  boys. 

There  is  no  time  to  explain,  and  Tom's  heart  beats 
frightfully  quick,  as  he  ponders,  '  Will  they  stand  by  us .'' ' 

The  farmer  makes  a  rush  at  East  and  collars  him  ;  and  that 
young  gentleman,  with  unusual  discretion,  instead  of  kicking 
his  shins,  looks  appealingly  at  Holmes  and  stands  still, 

'  Hullo  there,  not  so  fast,'  says  Holmes,  who  is  bound 
to  stand  up  for  them  till  they  are  proved  in  the  wrong. 
'  Now  what 's  all  this  about .'' ' 

'I've  got  the  young  varmint  at  last,  have  I,'  pants  the 
farmer ;  '  why  they  've  been  a-skulking  about  my  yard  and 
stealing  my  fowls,  that 's  where  't  is  ;  and  if  I  doan't  have  they 
flogged  for  it,  every  one  on  'em,  my  name  ain't  Thompson.' 

[306] 


A   CONFLICT   OF    TESTIMONY 

Holmes  looks  grave  and  Diggs's  face  falls.  They  are 
quite  ready  to  fight,  no  boys  in  the  school  more  so  ;  but 
they  are  praepostors,  and  understand  their  office,  and  can't 
uphold  unrighteous  causes. 

'I  haven't  been  near  his  old  barn  this  half,'  cries  East. 
'Nor  I,'  'Nor  I,'  chime  in  Tom  and  Martin. 

'  Now,  Willum,  did  n't  you  see  'm  there  last  week  ? ' 

*  Ees,  I  seen  'em  sure  enough,'  says  Willum,  grasping  a 
prong  he  carried,  and  preparing  for  action. 

The  boys  deny  stoutly,  and  Willum  is  driven  to  admit 
that,  'if  it  worn't  they  'twas  chaps  as  like  'em  as  two 
peas'n';  and  'leastways,  he'll  swear  he  see'd  them  two  in 
the  yard  last  Martinmas,'  indicating  East  and  Tom. 

Holmes  has  had  time  to  meditate.  '  Now,  sir,'  says  he  to 
Willum,  'you  see  you  can't  remember  what  you  have  seen, 
and  I  believe  the  boys.' 

'I  doan't  care,'  blusters  the  farmer;  'they  was  arter  my 
fowls  to-day,  that's  enough  for  I.  Willum,  you  catch  hold 
o'  t'other  chap.  They  've  been  a-sneaking  about  this  two 
hours,  I  tells  'ee,'  shouted  he,  as  Holmes  stands  between 
Martin  and  Willum,  '  and  have  druv  a  matter  of  a  dozen 
young  pullets  pretty  nigh  to  death.' 

'  Oh,  there  's  a  whacker  !  '  cried  East ;  '  we  have  n't  been 
within  a  hundred  yards  of  his  barn ;  we  have  n't  been 
up  here  above  ten  minutes,  and  we  've  seen  nothing  but  a 
tough   old    guinea-hen,    who   ran   like   a   greyhound.' 

'  Indeed,  that 's  all  true.  Holmes,  upon  my  honour,'  added 
Tom;  'we  weren't  after  his  fowls;  guinea-hen  ran  out  of 
the  hedge  under  our  feet,  and  we  've  seen  nothing  else.' 

'  Drat  their  talk.  Thee  catch  hold  o'  t'other,  Willum, 
and  come  along  wi'  un.' 

[307] 


TOM  BROWN'S  SCHOOL- DAYS 

'Farmer  Thompson,'  said  Holmes,  warning  off  Willum 
and  the  prong  with  his  stick,  while  Diggs  faced  the  other 
shepherd,  cracking  his  fingers  like  pistol  shots,  '  now  lis- 
ten to  reason  —  the  boys  haven't  been  after  your  fowls, 
that 's  plain.' 

'  Tells  'ee  I  see'd  'em.  Who  be  you,  I  should  like  to 
know  .-• ' 

'  Never  you  mind.  Farmer,'  answered  Holmes.  '  And 
now  I  '11  just  tell  you  what  it  is  —  you  ought  to  be  ashamed 
of  yourself  for  leaving  all  that  poultry  about,  with  no  one 
to  watch  it,  so  near  the  School.  You  deserve  to  have  it 
all  stolen.  So  if  you  choose  to  come  up  to  the  Doctor  with 
them,  I  shall  go  with  you,  and  tell  him  what  I  think  of  it.' 

The  farmer  began  to  take  Holmes  for  a  master ;  besides, 
he  wanted  to  get  back  to  his  flock.  Corporal  punishment 
was  out  of  the  question,  the  odds  were  too  great ;  so  he 
began  to  hint  at  paying  for  the  damage.  Arthur  jumped  at 
this,  offering  to  pay  anything,  and  the  farmer  immediately 
valued  the  guinea-hen  at  half  a  sovereign. 

'  Half  a  sovereign  !  '  cried  East,  now  released  from  the 
farmer's  grip;  'well,  that  is  a  good  one!  the  old  hen  ain't 
hurt  a  bit,  and  she  's  seven  years  old,  I  know,  and  as  tough 
as  whipcord  ;  she  could  n't  lay  another  egg  to  save  her  life.' 

It  was  at  last  settled  that  they  should  pay  the  farmer  two 
shillings,  and  his  man  one  shilling,  and  so  the  matter  ended, 
to  the  unspeakable  relief  of  Tom,  who  had  n't  been  able  to 
say  a  word,  being  sick  at  heart  at  the  idea  of  what  the  Doc- 
tor would  think  of  him  :  and  now  the  whole  party  of  boys 
marched  off  down  the  footpath  towards  Rugby.  Holmes, 
who  was  one  of  the  best  boys  in  the  School,  began  to  im- 
prove the  occasion.    '  Now,  you  youngsters,'  said  he,  as  he 

[308] 


LECTURE    ON    SCHOOL    LARCENY 

marched  along  in  the  middle  of  them,  '  mind  this  ;  you  're 
very  well  out  of  this  scrape.  Don't  you  go  near  Thompson's 
barn  again,  do  you  hear  ? ' 

Profuse  promises  from  all,  especially  East. 

'Mind,  I  don't  ask  questions,'  went  on  Mentor,  'but  I 
rather  think  some  of  you  have  been  there  before  this  after 
his  chickens.  Now,  knocking  over  other  people's  chickens, 
and  running  off  with  them,  is  stealing.  It 's  a  nasty  word, 
but  that 's  the  plain  English  of-  it.  If  the  chickens  were 
dead  and  lying  in  a  shop,  you  wouldn't  take  them,  I  know 
that,  any  more  than  you  would  apples  out  of  Griffith's  bas- 
ket ;  but  there  's  no  real  difference  between  chickens  running 
about  and  apples  on  a  tree,  and  the  same  articles  in  a  shop. 
I  wish  our  morals  were  sounder  in  such  matters.  There  's 
nothing  so  mischievous  as  these  school  distinctions,  which 
jumble  up  right  and  wrong,  and  justify  things  in  us  for 
which  poor  boys  would  be  sent  to  prison.'  And  good  old 
Holmes  delivered  his  soul  on  the  walk  home  of  many  wise 
sayings,  and,  as  the  .song  says  — 

'  Gee'd  'em  a  sight  of  good  advice  ' — 

which  same  sermon  sank  into  them  all  more  or  less,  and 
very  penitent  they  were  for  several  hours.  But  truth  com- 
pels me  to  admit  that  East,  at  any  rate,  forgot  it  all  in  a 
week,  but  remembered  the  insult  which  had  been  put  upon 
him  by  Farmer  Thompson,  and  with  the  Tadpole  and  other 
hair-brained  youngsters,  committed  a  raid  on  the  barn  soon 
afterwards,  in  which  they  were  caught  by  the  shepherds 
and  severely  handled,  besides  having  to  pay  eight  shillings, 
all  the  money  they  had  in  the  world,  to  escape  being  taken 
•Ap  k)  the  Doctor. 

[  309  ] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL- DAYS 

Martin  became  a  constant  inmate  in  the  joint  study  from 
this  time,  and  Arthur  took  to  him  so  kindly  that  Tom 
could  n't  resist  slight  fits  of  jealousy,  which,  however,  he 
managed  to  keep  to  himself.  The  kestrel's  eggs  had  not 
been  broken,  strange  to  say,  and  formed  the  nucleus  of 
Arthur's  collection,  at  which  Martin  worked  heart  and  soul ; 
and  introduced  Arthur  to  Howlett  the  bird-fancier,  and  in- 
structed him  in  the  rudiments  of  the  art  of  stuffing.  In 
token  of  his  gratitude,  Arthur  allowed  Martin  to  tattoo  a 
small  anchor  on  one  of  his  wrists,  which  decoration,  how- 
ever, he  carefully  concealed  from  Tom.  Before  the  end  of 
the  half-year  he  had  trained  into  a  bold  climber  and  good 
runner,  and,  as  Martin  had  foretold,  knew  twice  as  much 
about  trees,  birds,  flowers,  and  many  other  things,  as  our 
good-hearted  and  facetious  young  friend  Harry  East. 


[310] 


'  Surgebat  Macnevisius 
Et  mox  jactabat  ultra, 
Pugnabo  tua  gratia 
Feroci  hoc  Mactwoltro  ' 

Etonian 

HERE  is  a  certain  sort  of  fellow  —  we 
who  are  used  to  studying  boys  all  know 
him  well  enough  —  of  whom  you  can 
predicate  with  almost  positive  certainty, 
after  he  has  been  a  month  at  school, 
that  he  is  sure  to  have  a  fight,  and  with 
almost  equal  certainty  that  he  will  have  but  one.  Tom 
Brown  was  one  of  these  ;  and  as  it  is  our  well-weighed 
intention  to  give  a  full,  true,  and  correct  account  of  Tom's 
only  single  combat  with  a  school-fellow  in  the  manner  of 
our  old  friend  Bell's  Life,  let  those  young  persons  whose 
stomachs  arc  not  strong,  or  who  think  a  good  set-to  with 

[3'i] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 


the  weapons  which  God  has  given  us  all  an  uncivilized, 
unchristian,  or  ungentlemanly  affair,  just  skip  this  chapter 
at  once,  for  it  won't  be  to  their  taste. 

It  was  not  at  all  usual  in  those  days  for  two  School-house 
boys  to  have  a  fight.  Of  course,  there  were  exceptions, 
when  some  cross-grained,  hard-headed  fellow  came  up  who 
would  never  be  happy  unless  he  was  quarrelling  with  his 
nearest  neighbours,  or  when  there  was  some  class-dispute, 
between  the  fifth-form  and  the  fags,  for  instance,  which 
required  blood-letting ;  and  a  champion  was  picked  out  on 
each  side  tacitly,  who  settled  the  matter  by  a  good  hearty 
mill.  But  for  the  most  part,  the  constant  use  of  those  sur- 
est keepers  of  the  peace,  the  boxing-gloves,  kept  the  School- 
house  boys  from  fighting  one  another.  Two  or  three  nights 
in  every  week  the  gloves  were  brought  out,  either  in  the 
hall  or  fifth-form  room  ;  and  every  boy  who  was  ever  likely 
to  fight  at  all  knew  all  his  neighbours'  prowess  perfectly 
well,  and  could  tell  to  a  nicety  what  chance  he  would  have 
in  a  stand-up  fight  with  any  other  boy  in  the  house.  But,  of 
course,  no  such  experience  could  be  gotten  as  regarded  boys  in 
other  houses,  and  as  most  of  the  other  houses  were  more  or 
less  jealous  of  the  School-house,  collisions  were  frequent. 

After  all,  what  would  life  be  without  fighting,  I  should 
like  to  know  ?  From  the  cradle  to  the  grave,  fighting, 
rightly  understood,  is  the  business,  the  real,  highest,  honest- 
est  business  of  ever)^  son  of  man.  Every  one  who  is 
worth  his  salt  has  his  enemies,  who  must  be  beaten,  be 
they  evil  thoughts  and  habits  in  himself  or  spiritual  wicked- 
nesses in  high  places,  or  Russians,  or  Border-rufhans,  or 
Bill,  Tom,  or  Harry,  who  will  not  let  him  live  his  life  in 
quiet  till  he  has  thrashed  them. 

[312] 


FIGHTING    IN    GENERAL 

It  is  no  good  for  Quakers,  or  any  other  body  of  men,  to 
uplift  their  voices  against  fighting.  Human  nature  is  too 
strong  for  them,  and  they  don't  follow  their  own  precepts. 
Every  soul  of  them  is  doing  his  own  piece  of  fighting, 
somehow  and  somewhere.  The  world  might  be  a  better 
world  without  fighting,  for  anything  I  know,  but  it  would  n't 
be  our  world  ;  and  therefore  I  am  dead  against  crying  peace 
when  there  is  no  peace,  and  is  n't  meant  to  be.  I  am  as 
sorry  as  any  man  to  see  folk  fighting  the  wrong  people  and 
the  wrong  things,  but  I'd  a  deal  sooner  see  them  doing 
that,  than  that  they  should  have  no  fight  in  them.  So  hav- 
ing recorded,  and  being  about  to  record,  my  hero's  fights 
of  all  sorts,  with  all  sorts  of  enemies,  I  shall  now  proceed 
to  give  an  account  of  his  passage-at-arms  with  the  only  one 
of  his  school-fellows  whom  he  ever  had  to  encounter  in 
this   manner. 

It  was  drawing  towards  the  close  of  Arthur's  first  half- 
year,  and  the  May  evenings  were  lengthening  out.  Locking- 
up  was  not  till  eight  o'clock,  and  everybody  was  beginning 
to  talk  about  what  he  would  do  in  the  holidays.  The  shell, 
in  which  form  all  our  dramatis  personae  now  are,  were 
reading  amongst  other  things  the  last  book  of  Homer's 
Iliad,  and  had  worked  through  it  as  far  as  the  speeches  of 
the  women  over  Hector's  body.  It  is  a  whole  school-day, 
and  four  or  five  of  the  School-house  boys  (amongst  whom 
are  Arthur,  Tom,  and  East)  are  preparing  third  lesson 
together.  They  have  finished  the  regulation  forty  lines, 
and  are  for  the  most  part  getting  very  tired,  notwithstand- 
ing the  exquisite  pathos  of  Helen's  lamentation.  And  now 
several  long  four-syllabled  words  come  together,  and  the 
boy  with  the  dictionary  strikes  work. 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

'  I  am  not  going  to  look  out  any  more  words, '  says  he  ; 
*  we  've  done  the  quantity.  Ten  to  one  we  shan't  get  so  far. 
Let's  go  out  into  the  close.' 

*  Come  along,  boys,'  cries  East,  always  ready  to  leave  the 
grind,  as  he  called  it ;  '  our  old  coach  is  laid  up,  you  know, 
and  we  shall  have  one  of  the  new  masters,  who  's  sure  to 
go  slow  and  let  us  down  easy.' 

So  an  adjournment  to  the  close  was  carried  nem.  con., 
little  Arthur  not  daring  to  uplift  his  voice ;  but,  being 
deeply  interested  in  what  they  were  reading,  stayed  quietly 
behind,  and  learnt  on  for  his  own  pleasure. 

As  East  had  said,  the  regular  master  of  the  form  was 
unwell,  and  they  were  to  be  heard  by  one  of  the  new  mas- 
ters, quite  a  young  man,  who  had  only  just  left  the  Univer- 
sity. Certainly  it  would  be  hard  lines  if,  by  dawdling  as 
much  as  possible  in  coming  in  and  taking  their  places,  en- 
tering into  long-winded  explanations  of  what  was  the  usual 
course  of  the  regular  master  of  the  form,  and  others  of  the 
stock  contrivances  of  boys  for  wasting  time  in  school,  they 
could  not  spin  out  the  lesson  so  that  he  should  not  work 
them  through  more  than  the  forty  lines  ;  as  to  which  quantity 
there  was  a  perpetual  fight  going  on  between  the  master 
and  his  form,  the  latter  insisting,  and  enforcing  by  passive 
resistance,  that  it  was  the  prescribed  quantity  of  Homer  for 
a  shell  lesson,  the  former  that  there  was  no  fixed  quantity, 
but  that  they  must  always  be  ready  to  go  on  to  fifty  or  sixty 
lines  if  there  were  time  within  the  hour.  However,  notwith- 
standing all  their  efforts,  the  new  master  got  on  horribly 
quick  ;  he  seemed  to  have  the  bad  taste  to  be  really  inter- 
ested in  the  lesson,  and  to  be  trying  to  work  them  up  into 
something  like  appreciation  of  it,  giving  them  good  spirited 

[314] 


HOW    THE    FIGHT   AROSE 

English  words,  instead  of  the  wretched  bald  stuff  into  which 
they  rendered  poor  old  Homer ;  and  construing  over  each 
piece  himself  to  them,  after  each  boy,  to  show  them  how 
it  should  be  done. 

Now  the  clock  strikes  the  three-quarters  ;  there  is  only 
a  quarter  of  an  hour  more  ;  but  the  forty  lines  are  all  but 
done.  So  the  boys,  one  after  another,  who  are  called  up, 
stick  more  and  more,  and  make  balder  and  ever  more  bald 
work  of  it.  The  poor  young  master  is  pretty  near  beat  by 
this  time,  and  feels  ready  to  knock  his  head  against  the  wall, 
or  his  fingers  against  somebody  else's  head.  So  he  gives 
up  altogether  the  lower  and  middle  parts  of  the  form,  and 
looks  round  in  despair  at  the  boys  on  the  top  bench,  to  see 
if  there  is  one  out  of  whom  he  can  strike  a  spark  or  two, 
and  who  will  be  too  chivalrous  to  murder  the  most  beautiful 
utterances  of  the  most  beautiful  woman  of  the  old  world. 
His  eye  rests  on  Arthur,  and  he  calls  him  up  to  finish 
construing  Helen's  speech.  Whereupon  all  the  other  boys 
draw  long  breaths,  and  begin  to  stare  about  and  take  it 
easy.  They  are  all  safe  ;  Arthur  is  the  head  of  the  form, 
and  sure  to  be  able  to  construe,  and  that  will  tide  on  safely 
till  the  hour  strikes. 

Arthur  proceeds  to  read  out  the  passage  in  Greek  before 
construing  it,  as  the  custom  is.  Tom,  who  is  n't  paying 
much  attention,  is  suddenly  caught  by  the  falter  in  his  voice 
as  he  reads  the  two  lines  — 

aXAa  (TV  Tov  y  CTTcecrfrt  7rapatc^a/x€vo5  KarepvKe^, 
2//  T   dyuvoc^pocrvvry  Koi  <Joi?  ayapoi<;  tTreecrcriv. 

He  looks  up  at  Arthur.  'Why,  bless  us,'  thinks  he,  'what 
can  be  the  matter  with  the  young  un  ?    He  's  never  going 

[315] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

to  get  floored.  He  's  sure  to  have  learnt  to  the  end,'  Next 
moment  he  is  reassured  by  the  spirited  tone  in  which  Arthur 
begins  construing,  and  betakes  himself  to  drawing  dogs' 
heads  in  his  note-book,  while  the  master,  evidently  enjoying 
the  change,  turns  his  back  on  the  middle  bench  and  stands 
before  Arthur,  beating  a  sort  of  time  with  his  hand  and 
foot,  and  saying,  'Yes,  yes,'  'very  well,'  as  Arthur  goes  on. 

But  as  he  nears  the  fatal  two  lines,  Tom  catches  that 
falter  and  again  looks  up.  He  sees  that  there  is  something 
the  matter,  Arthur  can  hardly  get  on  at  all.    What  can  it  be. 

Suddenly  at  this  point  Arthur  breaks  down  altogether, 
and  fairly  bursts  out  crying,  and  dashes  the-  cuff  of  his 
jacket  across  his  eyes,  blushing  up  to  the  roots  of  his 
hair,  and  feeling  as  if  he  should  like  to  go  down  suddenly 
through  the  floor.  The  whole  form  are  taken  aback  ;  most 
of  them  stare  stupidly  at  him,  while  those  who  are  gifted 
with  presence  of  mind  find  their  places  and  look  steadily 
at  their  books,  in  hopes  of  not  catching  the  master's  eye 
and  getting  called  up  in  Arthur's  place. 

The  master  looks  puzzled  for  a  moment,  and  then  seeing, 
as  the  fact  is,  that  the  boy  is  really  affected  to  tears  by  the 
most  touching  thing  in  Homer,  perhaps  in  all  profane  poetry 
put  together,  steps  up  to  him  and  lays  his  hand  kindly  on 
his  shoulder,  saying,  *  Never  mind,  my  little  man,  you  've 
construed  very  well.     Stop  a  minute.    There  's  no  hurry.' 

Now,  as  luck  would  have  it,  there  sat  next  above  Tom 
on  that  day,  in  the  middle  bench  of  the  form,  a  big  boy,  by 
name  Williams,  generally  supposed  to  be  the  cock  of  the 
shell,  therefore  of  all  the  school  below  the  fifths.  The  small 
boys,  who  are  great  speculators  on  the  prowess  of  their 
elders,  used  to  hold  forth  to  one  another  about  Williams's 

[316] 


HOW    THE    FIGHT   AROSE 

great  strength,  and  to  discuss  whether  East  or  Brown  would 
take  a  licking  from  him.  He  was  called  Slogger  Williams, 
from  the  force  with  which  it  was  supposed  he  could  hit. 
In  the  main,  he  was  a  rough,  good-natured  fellow  enough, 
but  very  much  alive  to  his  own  dignity.  He  reckoned  him- 
self the  king  of  the  form,  and  kept  up  his  position  with  the 
strong  hand,  especially  in  the  matter  of  forcing  boys  not 
to  construe  more  than  the  legitimate  forty  lines.  He  had 
already  grunted  and  grumbled  to  himself,  when  Arthur  went 
on  reading  beyond  the  forty  lines.  But  now  that  he  had 
broken  down  just  in  the  middle  of  all  the  long  words,  the 
Slogger's  wrath  was  fairly  roused. 

'Sneaking  little  brute,'  muttered  he,  regardless  of  pru- 
dence, '  clapping  on  the  water- works  just  in  the  hardest 
place  ;  see  if  I  don't  punch  his  head  after  fourth  lesson.' 

'  Whose  .-* '  said  Tom,  to  whom  the  remark  seemed  to  be 
addressed. 

'Why,  that  little  sneak,  Arthur's,'  replied  Williams. 

*  No,  you  shan't,'- said  Tom. 

'  Hullo !  '  exclaimed  Williams,  looking  at  Tom  with  great 
surprise  for  a  moment,  and  then  giving  him  a  sudden  dig 
in  the  ribs  with  his  elbow,  which  sent  Tom's  books  flying 
on  to  the  floor,  and  called  the  attention  of  the  master,  who 
turned  suddenly  round,  and  seeing  the  state  of  things,  said  : 

'Williams,  go  down  three  places,  and  then  go  on.' 

The  Slogger  found  his  legs  very  slowly,  and  proceeded 
to  go  below  Tom  and  two  other  boys  with  great  disgust,  and 
then,  turning  round  and  facing  the  master,  said,  '  I  have  n't 
learnt  any  more,  sir ;  our  lesson  is  only  forty  lines.' 

'  Is  that  so  ? '  said  the  master,  appealing  generally  to  the 
top  bench.    No  answer. 

[317] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

'Who  is  the  head  boy  of  the  form  ? '  said  he,  waxing  wrath. 

'Arthur,  sir,'  answered  three  or  four  boys,  indicating  our 
friend. 

'  Oh,  your  name  's  Arthur.  Well,  now,  what  is  the  length 
of  your  regular  lesson  ? ' 

Arthur  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then  said,  '  We  call  it 
only  forty  lines,  sir.' 

'  How  do  you  mean,  you  call  it  ? ' 

'  Well,  sir,  Mr.  Graham  says  we  ain't  to  stop  there,  when 
there  's  time  to  construe  more.' 

'I  understand,'  said  the  master.  'Williams,  go  down 
three  more  places,  and  write  me  out  the  lesson  in  Greek 
and  English.    And  now,  Arthur,  finish  construing.' 

'  Oh  !  would  I  be  in  Arthur's  shoes  after  fourth  lesson  ? ' 
said  the  little  boys  to  one  another ;  but  Arthur  finished 
Helen's  speech  without  any  further  catastrophe,  and  the 
clock  struck  four,  which  ended  third  lesson. 

Another  hour  was  occupied  in  preparing  and  saying  fourth 
lesson,  during  which  Williams  was  bottling  up  his  wrath ; 
and  when  five  struck,  and  the  lessons  for  the  day  were  over, 
he  prepared  to  take  summary  vengeance  on  the  innocent 
cause  of  his  misfortune. 

Tom  was  detained  in  school  a  few  minutes  after  the  rest, 
and  on  coming  out  into  the  quadrangle,  the  first  thing  he 
saw  was  a  small  ring  of  boys,  applauding  Williams,  who  was 
holding  Arthur  by  the  collar. 

'There,  you  young  sneak,'  said  he,  giving  Arthur  a 
cuff  on  the  head  with  his  other  hand,  '  what  made  you  say 
that  — ' 

'  Hullo !  '  said  Tom,  shouldering  into  the  crowd,  '  you 
drop  that,  Williams ;   you  shan't  touch  him.' 

[318] 


^ 


THE    FIRST    THING    HE    SAW   WAS    A   SMALL    RING    OF    BOYS' 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

'Who'll  stop  me?'  said  the  Slogger,  raising  his  hand  again. 

'  I,'  said  Tom  ;  and,  suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  struck 
the  arm  which  held  Arthur's  arm  so  sharply  that  the  Slog- 
ger dropped  it  with  a  start,  and  turned  the  full  current  of 
his  wrath  on  Tom. 

'  Will  you  fight  ? ' 

*  Yes,  of  course.' 

'  Huzza,  there 's  going  to  be  a  fight  between  Slogger 
Williams  and  Tom  Brown  !  ' 

The  news  ran  like  wild-fire  about,  and  many  boys  who 
were  on  their  way  to  tea  at  their  several  houses  turned  back, 
and  sought  the  back  of  the  chapel,  where  the  fights  come  off. 

'Just  run  and  tell  East  to  come  and  back  me,'  said  Tom 
to  a  small  School-house  boy,  who  was  off  like  a  rocket  to 
Harrowell's,  just  stopping  for  a  moment  to  poke  his  head 
into  the  School-house  hall,  where  the  lower  boys  were 
already  at  tea,  and  sing  out,  '  Fight !  Tom  Brown  and 
Slogger  Williams.' 

Up  start  half  the  boys  at  once,  leaving  bread,  eggs,  but- 
ter, sprats,  and  all  the  rest  to  take  care  of  themselves.  The 
greater  part  of  the  remainder  follow  in  a  minute,  after 
swallowing  their  tea,  carrying  their  food  in  their  hands  to 
consume  as  they  go.  Three  or  four  only  remain,  who  steal 
the  butter  of  the  more  impetuous,  and  make  to  themselves 
an  unctuous  feast. 

In  another  minute  East  and  Martin  tear  through  the 
quadrangle,  carrying  a  sponge,  and  arrive  at  the  scene  of 
action  just  as  the  combatants  are  beginning  to  strip. 

Tom  felt  he  had  got  his  work  cut  out  for  him,  as  he 
stripped  off  his  jacket,  waistcoat,  and  braces.  East  tied  his 
handkerchief  round  his  waist,  and  rolled  up  his  shirt-sleeves 

[320] 


IN    THE    RING 

for  him  :  '  Now,  old  boy,  don't  you  open  your  mouth  to  say 
a  word,  or  try  to  help  yourself  a  bit ;  we  '11  do  all  that.  You 
keep  all  your  breath  and  strength  for  the  Slogger.'  Martin 
meanwhile  folded  the  clothes,  and  put  them  under  the 
chapel  rails  ;  and  now  Tom,  with  East  to  handle  him  and 
Martin  to  give  him  a  knee,  steps  out  on  the  turf,  and  is 
ready  for  all  that  may  come  ;  and  here  is  the  Slogger,  too, 
all  stripped,  and  thirsting  for  the  fray. 

It  doesn't  look  a  fair  match  at  first  glance:  Williams  is 
nearly  two  inches  taller,  and  probably  a  long  year  older  than 
his  opponent,  and  he  is  very  strongly  made  about  the  arms 
and  shoulders  —  'peels  well,'  as  the  little  knot  of  big  fifth- 
form  boys,  the  amateurs,  say  —  who  stand  outside  the  ring  of 
little  boys,  looking  complacently  on,  but  taking  no  active 
part  in  the  proceedings.  But  down  below  he  is  not  so  good 
by  any  means  ;  no  spring  from  the  loins,  and  feeblish,  not 
to  say  shipwrecky,  about  the  knees.  Tom,  on  the  contrary, 
though  not  half  so  strong  in  the  arms,  is  good  all  over, 
straight,  hard,  and  springy,  from  neck  to  ankle,  better 
perhaps  in  his  legs  than  anywhere.  Besides,  you  can  see 
by  the  clear  white  of  his  eye,  and  fresh,  bright  look  of  his 
skin,  that  he  is  in  tip-top  training,  able  to  do  all  he  knows  ; 
while  the  Slogger  looks  rather  sodden,  as  if  he  didn't  take 
much  exercise  and  ate  too  much  tuck.  The  timekeeper  is 
chosen,  a  large  ring  made,  and  the  two  stand  up  opposite 
one  another  for  a  moment,  giving  us  time  just  to  make  our 
little  observations. 

'  If  Tom  '11  only  condescend  to  fight  with  his  head  and 
heels,'  as  East  mutters  to  Martin,  'we  shall  do.' 

But  seemingly  he  won't,  for  there  he  goes  in,  making  play 
with  both  hands.     Hard  all,  is  the  word  ;  the  two  stand  to 

[321] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

one  another  like  men  ;  rally  follows  rally  in  quick  succession, 
each  fighting  as  if  he  thought  to  finish  the  whole  thing  out 
of  hand.  '  Can't  last  at  this  rate,'  say  the  knowing  ones,  while 
the  partisans  of  each  make  the  air  ring  with  their  shouts  and 
counter-shouts,  of  encouragement,  approval,  and  defiance. 

*  Take  it  easy,  take  it  easy  —  keep  away,  let  him  come 
after  you,'  implores  East,  as  he  wipes  Tom's  face  aftef  the 
first  round  with  a  wet  sponge,  while  he  sits  back  on  Martin's 
knee,  supported  by  the  Madman's  long  arms,  which  tremble 
a  little  from  excitement. 

'Time's  up,'  calls  the  timekeeper. 

'  There  he  goes  again,  hang  it  all !  '  growls  East,  as  his 
man  is  at  it  again,  as  hard  as  ever.  A  very  severe  round 
follows,  in  which  Tom  gets  out  and  out  the  worst  of  it,  and 
is  at  last  hit  clean  off  his  legs,  and  deposited  on  the  grass 
by  a  right-hander  from  the  Slogger. 

Loud  shouts  rise  from  the  boys  of  Slogger's  house,  and 
the  School-house  are  silent  and  vicious,  ready  to  pick  quarrels 
anywhere. 

'Two  to  one  in  half-crowns  on  the  big  un,'  says  Rattle, 
one  of  the  amateurs,  a  tall  fellow,  in  thunder-and-lightning 
waistcoat,  and  puffy,  good-natured  face. 

'  Done  !  '  says  Groove,  another  amateur  of  quieter  look, 
taking  out  his  note-book  to  enter  it,  for  our  friend  Rattle 
sometimes  forgets  these  little  things. 

Meantime  East  is  freshening  up  Tom  with  the  sponges 
for  next  round,  and  has  set  two  other  boys  to  rub  his  hands. 

*  Tom,  old  boy,'  whispers  he,  '  this  may  be  fun  for  you, 
but  it 's  death  to  me.  He  '11  hit  all  the  fight  out  of  you  in 
another  five  minutes,  and  then  I  shall  go  and  drown  myself 
in  the  island  ditch.    Feint  him  —  use  your  legs !  draw  him 

[322] 


THE    FIGHT 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

about !  he  '11  lose  his  wind  then  in  no  time,  and  you  can 
go  into  him.  Hit  at  his  body  too ;  we  '11  take  care  of  his 
frontispiece  by  and  by.' 

Tom  felt  the  wisdom  of  the  counsel,  and  saw  already  that 
he  could  n't  go  in  and  finish  the  Slogger  off  at  mere  hammer 
and  tongs,  so  changed  his  tactics  completely  in  the  third 
round.  He  now  fights  cautious,  getting  away  from  and  par- 
rying the  Slogger's  lunging  hits,  instead  of  trying  to  counter, 
and  leading  his  enemy  a  dance  all  round  the  ring  after  him. 
'He's  funking;  go  in,  Williams,'  'Catch  him  up,'  'Finish 
him  off,'  scream  the  small  boys  of  the  Slogger  party. 

'Just  what  we  want,'  thinks  East,  chuckling  to  himself,  as 
he  sees  Williams,  excited  by  these  shouts,  and  thinking  the 
game  in  his  own  hands,  blowing  himself  in  his  exertions 
to  get  to  close  quarters  again,  while  Tom  is  keeping  away 
with  perfect  ease. 

They  quarter  over  the  ground  again  and  again,  Tom 
always  on  the  defensive. 

The  Slogger  pulls  up  at  last  for  a  moment,  fairly  blown. 

'  Now  then,  Tom,'  sings  out  East,  dancing  with  delight. 
Tom  goes  in  in  a  twinkling,  and  hits  two  heavy  body  blows, 
and  gets  away  again  before  the  Slogger  can  catch  his  wind  ; 
which  when  he  does  he  rushes  with  blind  fury  at  Tom,  and 
being  skilfully  parried  and  avoided,  over-reaches  himself, 
and  falls  on  his  face,  amidst  terrific  cheers  from  the  School- 
house  boys. 

'  Double  your  two  to  one  ? '  says  Groove  to  Rattle,  note- 
book in  hand. 

'  Stop  a  bit,'  says  that  hero,  looking  uncomfortably  at 
Williams,  who  is  puffing  away  on  his  second's  knee,  winded 
enough,  but  little  the  worse  in  any  other  way. 

[324] 


HEAD    FIGHTING 

After  another  round  the  Slogger,  too,  seems  to  see  that 
he  can't  go  in  and  win  right  off,  and  has  met  his  match  or 
thereabouts.  So  he,  too,  begins  to  use  his  head,  and  tries 
to  make  Tom  lose  patience,  and  come  in  before  his  time. 
And  so  the  fight  sways  on,  now  one  and  now  the  other 
getting  a  trifling  pull. 

Tom's  face  begins  to  look  very  one-sided — there  are 
little  queer  bumps  on  his  forehead,  and  his  mouth  is  bleed- 
ing ;  but  East  keeps  the  wet  sponge  going  so  scientifically 
that  he  comes  up  looking  as  fresh  and  bright  as  ever. 
Williams  is  only  slightly  marked  in  the  face,  but  by  the 
nervous  movement  of  his  elbows  you  can  see  that  Tom's 
body  blows  are  telling.  In  fact,  half  the  vice  of  the  Slogger's 
hitting  is  neutralized,  for  he  dare  n't  lunge  out  freely  for 
fear  of  exposing  his  sides.  It  is  too  interesting  by  this  time 
for  much  shouting,  and  the  whole  ring  is  very  quiet. 

'All  right.  Tommy,'  whispers  East ;  *  hold  on  's  the  horse 
that 's  to  win.   We  've  got  the  last.    Keep  your  head,  old  boy.' 

But  where  is  Arthur  all  this  time  ?  Words  cannot  paint 
the  poor  little  fellow's  distress.  He  could  n't  muster  courage 
to  come  up  to  the  ring,  but  wandered  up  and  down  from 
the  great  fives-court  to  the  corner  of  the  chapel  rails,  now 
trying  to  make  up  his  mind  to  throw  himself  between  them, 
and  try  to  stop  them  ;  then  thinking  of  running  in  and 
telling  his  friend  Mary,  who,  he  knew,  would  instantly 
report  to  the  Doctor.  The  stories  he  had  heard  of  men 
being  killed  in  prize-fights"  rose  up  horribly  before  him. 

Once  only,  when  the  shouts  of  '  Well  done.  Brown ! ' 
'  Huzza  for  the  School-house  !  '  rose  higher  than  ever,  he 
ventured  up  to  the  ring,  thinking  the  victory  was  won. 
Catching  sight  of  Tom's  face  in  the  state  I  have  described, 

[325] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

all  fear  of  consequences  vanishing  out  of  his  mind,  he 
rushed  straight  off  to  the  matron's  room,  beseeching  her  to 
get  the  fight  stopped,  or  he  should  die. 

But  it's  time  for  us  to  get  back  to  the  close.  What  is 
this  fierce  tumult  and  confusion  ?  The  ring  is  broken,  and 
high  and  angry  words  are  being  bandied  about :  '  It 's  all 
fair,'  —  'It  is  n't,'  —  '  No  hugging  '  ;  the  fight  is  stopped. 
The  combatants,  however,  sit  there  quietly,  tended  by  their 
seconds,  while  their  adherents  wrangle  in  the  middle.  East 
can't  help  shouting  challenges  to  two  or  three  of  the  other 
side,  though  he  never  leaves  Tom  for  a  moment,  and  plies 
the  sponges  as  fast  as  ever. 

The  fact  is,  that  at  the  end  of  the  last  round,  Tom,  seeing 
a  good  opening,  had  closed  with  his  opponent,  and  after  a 
moment's  struggle,  had  thrown  him  heavily,  by  help  of  the 
fall  he  had  learnt  from  his  village  rival  in  the  Vale  of  White 
Horse.  Williams  had  n't  the  ghost  of  a  chance  with  Tom  at 
wrestling ;  and  the  conviction  broke  at  once  on  the  Slogger 
faction  that  if  this  were  allowed  their  man  must  be  licked. 
There  was  a  strong  feeling  in  the  school  against  catching  hold 
and  throwing,  though  it  was  generally  ruled  all  fair  within 
certain  limits  ;  so  the  ring  was  broken  and  the  fight  stopped. 

The  School-house  are  over-ruled  —  the  fight  is  on  again, 
but  there  is  to  be  no  throwing ;  and  East  in  high  wrath 
threatens  to  take  his  man  away  after  next  round  (which 
he  don't  mean  to  do,  by  the  way),  when  suddenly  young 
Brooke  comes  through  the  small  gate  at  the  end  of  the 
chapel.  The  School-house  faction  rush  to  him.  '  Oh,  hurra  ! 
now  we  shall  get  fair  play.' 

'  Please,  Brooke,  come  up,  they  won't  let  Tom  Brown 
throw  him.' 

[326] 


ANOTHER    ROUND 

*  Throw  whom  ? '  says  Brooke,  coming  up  to  the  ring. 
'  Oh !  WilHams,  I  see.  Nonsense !  Of  course  he  may 
throw  him,  if  he  catches  him  fairly  above  the  waist.' 

Now,  young  Brooke,  you  're  in  the  sixth,  you  know,  and 
you  ought  to  stop  all  fights.  He  looks  hard  at  both  boys. 
'Anything  wrong,?'  says  he  to  East,  nodding  at  Tom. 

*  Not  a  bit.' 

*  Not  beat  at  all  ? ' 

*  Bless  you,  no !  Heaps  of  fight  in  him.  Ain't  there, 
Tom  ? ' 

Tom  looks  at  Brooke  and  grins. 

*  How  's  he  } '  nodding  at  Williams. 

'  So,  so ;  rather  done,  I  think,  since  his  last  fall.  He 
won't  stand  above  two  more.' 

'  Time  's  up  !  '  The  boys  rise  again  and  face  one  another. 
Brooke  can't  find  it  in  his  heart  to  stop  them  just  yet, 
so  the  round  goes  on,  the  Slogger  waiting  for  Tom,  and 
reserving  all  his  strength  to  hit  him  out  should  he  come 
in  for  the  wrestling  dodge  again,  for  he  feels  that  that  must 
be  stopped,  or  his  sponge  will  soon  go  up  in  the  air. 

And  now  another  new-comer  appears  on  the  field,  to  wit, 
the  under-pofter,  with  his  long  brush  and  great  wooden 
receptacle  for  dust  under  his  arm.  He  has  been  sweeping 
out  the  schools. 

'You'd  better  stop,  gentlemen,'  he  says;  'the  Doctor 
knows  that  Brown's  fighting — he'll  be  out  in  a  minute.' 

'You  go  to  Bath,  Bill,'  is  all  that  that  excellent  servitor 
gets  by  his  advice.  And  being  a  man  of  his  hands,  and  a 
staunch  upholder  of  the  School-house,  can't  help  stopping 
to  look  on  for  a  bit  and  see  Tom  Brown,  their  pet  crafts- 
man, fight  a  round, 

[327] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

It  is  grim  earnest  now,  and  no  mistake.  Both  boys  feel 
this,  and  summon  every  power  of  head,  hand,  and  eye  to 
their  aid.  A  piece  of  luck  on  either  side,  a  foot  shpping, 
a  blow  getting  well  home,  or  another  fall,  may  decide  it. 
Tom  works  slowly  round  for  an  opening ;  he  has  all  the 
legs,  and  can  choose  his  own  time  ;  the  Slogger  waits  for 
the  attack,  and  hopes  to  finish  it  by  some  heavy  right- 
handed  blow.  As  they  quarter  slowly  over  the  ground,  the 
evening  sun  comes  out  from  behind  a  cloud  and  falls  full 
on  Williams's  face.  Tom  darts  in,  the  heavy  right-hand  is 
delivered,  but  only  grazes  his  head.  A  short  rally  at  close 
quarters,  and  they  close  ;  in  another  moment  the  Slogger 
is  thrown  again  heavily  for  the  third  time. 

'  I  '11  give  you  three  to  two  on  the  little  one  in  half- 
crowns,'    said   Groove   to    Rattle. 

'  No,  thank  'ee,'  answers  the  other,  diving  his  hands 
further   into   his   coat-tails. 

Just  at  this  stage  of  the  proceedings  the  door  of  the  tur- 
ret which  leads  to  the  Doctor's  library  suddenly  opens,  and 
he  steps  into  the  close,  and  makes  straight  for  the  ring,  in 
which  Brown  and  the  Slogger  are  both  seated  on  their 
seconds'    knees   for   the   last  time. 

'  The  Doctor !  the  Doctor !  '  shouts  some  small  boy  who 
catches  sight  of  him,  and  the  ring  melts  away  in  a  few 
seconds,  the  small  boys  tearing  off,  Tom  collaring  his 
jacket  and  waistcoat,  and  slipping  through  the  little  gate  by 
the  chapel,  and  round  the  corner  to  Harrowell's  with  his 
backers,  as  lively  as  need  be ;  Williams  and  his  backers 
making  off  not  quite  so  fast  across  the  close ;  Groove, 
Rattle,  and  the  other  bigger  fellows  trying  to  combine 
dignity  and  prudence  in  a  comical  manner,  and  walking  off 

[3^8] 


THE    DOCTOR    ARRIVES 

fast  enough,  they  hope,  not  to  be  recognized,  and  not  fast 
enough  to  look  Hke  running  away. 

Young  Brooke  alone  remains  on  the  ground  by  the  time 
the  Doctor  gets  there,  and  touches  his  hat,  not  without 
a   slight   inward   qualm. 

'  Ha !  Brooke.  I  am  surprised  to  see  you  here.  Don't 
you  know  that  I  expect  the  sixth  to  stop  fighting  ? ' 

Brooke  felt  much  more  uncomfortable  than  he  had 
expected,  but  he  was  rather  a  favourite  with  the  Doctor 
for  his  openness  and  plainness  of  speech  ;  so  blurted  out, 
as  he  walked  by  the  Doctor's  side,  who  had  already  turned 
back  : 

'  Yes,  sir,  generally.  But  I  thought  you  wished  us  to 
exercise  a  discretion  in  the  matter,  too  —  not  to  interfere 
too  soon.' 

'  But  they  have  been  fighting  this  half- hour  and  more,' 
said  the  Doctor. 

'  Yes,  sir ;  but  neither  was  hurt.  And  they  're  the  sort 
of  boys  who  '11  be  all  the  better  friends  now,  which  they 
wouldn't  have  been 'if  they  had  been  stopped  any  earlier  — 
before  it  was  so  equal.' 

'  Who  was  fighting  with  Brown  .''  '  said  the  Doctor. 

'  Williams,  sir,  of  Thompson's.  He  is  bigger  than  Brown, 
and  had  the  best  of  it  at  first,  but  not  when  you  came  up, 
sir.  There 's  a  good  deal  of  jealousy  between  our  house 
and  Thompson's,  and  there  would  have  been  more  fights  if 
this  had  n't  been  let  go  on,  or  if  either  of  them  had  had 
much  the  worst  of  it.' 

'  Well,  but,  Brooke,'  said  the  Doctor,  'doesn't  this  look  a 
little  as  if  you  exercised  your  discretion  by  only  stopping  a 
fight  when  the  School-house  boy  is  getting  the  worst  of  it.^' 

[329] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

Brooke,  it  must  be  confessed,  felt  rather  gravelled. 

'  Now  remember,'  added  the  Doctor,  as  he  stopped  at 
the  turret-door,  '  this  fight  is  not  to  go  on  —  you  '11  see 
to  that.  And  I  expect  you  to  stop  all  fights  in  future 
at  once.' 

'Very  well,  sir,'  said  young  Brooke,  touching  his  hat, 
and  not  sorry  to  see  the  turret-door  close  behind  the 
Doctor's    back. 

Meantime  Tom  and  the  staunchest  of  his  adherents  had 
reached  Harrowell's,  and  Sally  was  bustling  about  to  get 
them  a  late  tea,  while  Stumps  had  been  sent  off  to  Tew, 
the  butcher,  to  get  a  piece  of  raw  beef  for  Tom's  eye, 
which  was  to  be  healed  off-hand,  so  that  he  might  show 
well  in  the  morning.  He  was  not  a  bit  the  worse,  except  a 
slight  difficulty  in  his  vision,  a  singing  in  his  ears,  and  a 
sprained  thumb,  which  he  kept  in  a  cold-water  bandage, 
while  he  drank  lots  of  tea,  and  listened  to  the  Babel  of 
voices  talking  and  speculating  of  nothing  but  the  fight,  and 
how  Williams  would  have  given  in  after  another  fall  (which 
he  did  n't  in  the  least  believe),  and  how  on  earth  the  Doctor 
could  have  got  to  know  of  it  —  such  bad  luck  !  He  could  n't 
help  thinking  to  himself  that  he  was  glad  he  had  n't  won ; 
he  liked  it  better  as  it  was,  and  felt  very  friendly  to  the 
Slogger.  And  then  poor  little  Arthur  crept  in  and  sat 
down  quietly  near  him,  and  kept  looking  at  him  and  the 
raw  beef  with  such  plaintive  looks  that  Tom  at  last  burst 
out  laughing. 

'Don't  make  such  eyes,  young  un,'  said  he,  'there's 
nothing   the   matter.' 

'Oh,  but,  Tom,  are  you  much  hurt.''  I  can't  bear  think- 
ing it  was  all  for  me.' 

[330] 


THE    SHAKE-HANDS 

'  Not  a  bit  of  it,  don't  flatter  yourself.  We  were  sure  to 
have  had  it  out  sooner  or  later.' 

'  Well,  but  you  won't  go  on,  will  you .?  You  '11  promise 
me  you  won't  go  on  ? ' 

'Can't  tell  about  that  —  all  depends  on  the  houses. 
We  're  in  the  hands  of  our  countrymen,  you  know.  Must 
fight  for  the  School-house  flag,  if  so  be.' 

However,  the  lovers  of  the  science  were  doomed  to  dis- 
appointment this  time.  Directly  after  locking-up  one  of  the 
night  fags  knocked  at  Tom's  door. 

'  Brown,  young  Brooke  wants  you  in  the  sixth-form 
room.' 

Up  went  Tom  to  the  summons,  and  found  the  magnates 
sitting  at  their  supper. 

'Well,  Brown,'  said  young  Brooke,  nodding  to  him, 
'  how   do  you   feel .'' ' 

'  Oh,  very  well,  thank  you,  only  I  've  sprained  my  thumb, 
I  think.' 

'  Sure  to  do  that  in  a  fight.  Well,  you  had  n't  the  worst 
of  it,  I  could  see.    WJiere  did  you  learn  that  throw  ? ' 

'  Down  in  the  country,  when  I  was  a  boy.' 

'  Hullo !  why,  what  are  you  now }  Well,  never  mind, 
you  're  a  plucky  fellow.    Sit  down  and  have  some  supper,' 

Tom  obeyed,  by  no  means  loath.  And  the  fifth-form  boy 
next  him  filled  him  a  tumbler  of  bottled-beer,  and  he  ate 
and  drank,  listening  to  the  pleasant  talk,  and  wondering 
how  soon  he  should  be  in  the  fifth,  and  one  of  that  much- 
envied  society. 

As  he  got  up  to  leave,  Brooke  said,  'You  must  shake 
hands  to-morrow  morning.  I  shall  come  and  see  that  done 
after  first  lesson.' 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

And  so  he  did.  And  Tom  and  the  Slogger  shook  hands 
with  great  satisfaction  and  mutual  respect.  And  for  the 
next  year  or  two,  whenever  fights  were  being  talked  of,  the 
small  boys  who  had  been  present  shook  their  heads  wisely, 
saying,  '  Ah !  but  you  should  just  have  seen  the  fight 
between   Slogger   Williams   and   Tom   Brown !  ' 

And  now,  boys  all,  three  words  before  we  quit  the  sub- 
ject. I  have  put  in  this  chapter  on  fighting  of  malice 
prepense,  partly  because  I  want  to  give  you  a  true  picture 
of  what  every-day  school-life  was  in  my  time,  and  not  a 
kid-glove  and  go-to-meeting-coat  picture  ;  and  partly  be- 
cause of  the  cant  and  twaddle  that  's  talked  of  boxing 
and  fighting  with  fists  nowadays.  Even  Thackeray  has 
given  in  to  it ;  and  only  a  few  weeks  ago  there  was  some 
rampant  stuff  in  the  Times  on  the  subject,  in  an  article  on 
field  sports. 

Boys  will  quarrel,  and  when  they  quarrel  will  sometimes 
fight.  Fighting  with  fists  is  the  natural  and  English  way 
for  English  boys  to  settle  their  quarrels.  What  substitute 
for  it  is  there,  or  ever  was  there,  amongst  any  nation  under 
the  sun .?    What  would  you  like  to  see  take  its  place .-' 

Learn  to  box,  then,  as  you  learn  to  play  cricket  and 
football.  Not  one  of  you  will  be  the  worse,  but  very  much 
the  better  for  learning  to  box  well.  Should  you  never  have 
to  use  it  in  earnest,  there  's  no  exercise  in  the  world  so 
good  for  the  temper,  and  for  the  muscles  of  the  back 
and   legs. 

As  to  fighting,  keep  out  of  it  if  you  can,  by  all  means. 
When  the  time  comes,  if  it  ever  should,  that  you  have 
to  say  '  Yes  '  or  '  No  '  to  a  challenge  to  fight,  say  '  No ' 
if  you  can  —  only  take  care  you  make  it  clear  to  yourselves 

[332] 


,„r.-'^  ''■ 


'I'^dml, 


'.<l/^ 

•«?%,. 


lU'"', 


'ah:   f,ut  vou  shoui.I)  just  have  seen  the  fight 
between  slouger  williams  and  tom  brown!' 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

why  you  say  *  No.'  It 's  a  proof  of  the  highest  courage,  if 
done  from  true  Christian  motives.  It 's  quite  right  and 
justifiable,  if  done  from  a  simple  aversion  to  physical  pain 
and  danger.  But  don't  say  '  No '  because  you  fear  a  lick- 
ing, and  say  or  think  it 's  because  you  fear  God,  for  that 's 
neither  Christian  nor  honest.  And  if  you  do  fight,  fight  it 
out ;  and  don't  give  in  while  you  can  stand  and  see. 


534] 


^T/jh  our  hope  for  all  that  V  mortal. 
And  we  too  shall  burst  the  bond ; 
Death  keeps  watch  beside  the  portal. 
But  V  is  life  that  dzvells  beyond. ' 

John  Sterling 

WO  years  have  passed  since  the  events 
recorded  in  the  last  chapter,  and  the  end 
of  the  summer  half-year  is  again  drawing 
on.  Martin  has  left  and  gone  on  a  cruise 
in  the  South  Pacific  in  one  of  his  uncle's 
ships  ;  the  old  magpie,  as  disreputable  as 
ever,  his  last  bequest  to  Arthur,  lives  in  the  joint  study. 
Arthur  is  nearly  sixteen,  and  at  the  head  of  the  twenty, 
having  gone  up  the  School  at  the  rate  of  a  form  a  half- 
year.  East  and  Tom  have  been  much  more  deliberate  in 
their  progress,  and  arc  only  a  little  way  up  the  fifth-form. 

[335] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

Great  strapping  boys  they  are,  but  still  thorough  boys,  filling 
about  the  same  place  in  the  house  that  young  Brooke  filled 
when  they  were  new  boys,  and  much  the  same  sort  of 
fellows.  Constant  intercourse  with  Arthur  has  done  much 
for  both  of  them,  especially  for  Tom  ;  but  much  remains 
yet  to  be  done,  if  they  are  to  get  all  the  good  out  of  Rugby 
which  is  to  be  got  there  in  these  times.  Arthur  is  still 
frail  and  delicate,  with  more  spirit  than  body ;  but,  thanks 
to  his  intimacy  with  them  and  Martin,  has  learned  to  swim, 
and  run,  and  play  cricket,  and  has  never  hurt  himself  by 
too  much  reading. 

One  evening,  as  they  were  all  sitting  down  to  supper 
in  the  fifth-form  room,  some  one  started  a  report  that 
a  fever  had  broken  out  at  one  of  the  boarding-houses ; 
'they  say,'  he  added,  'that  Thompson  is  very  ill,  and  that 
Dr.  Robertson  has  been  sent  for  from  Northampton.' 

'Then  we  shall  all  be  sent  home,'  cried  another. 
'  Hurrah !  five  weeks'  extra  holidays,  and  no  fifth-form 
examination  ! ' 

'I  hope  not,'  said  Tom;  'there'll  be  no  Marylebone 
match  then  at  the  end  of  the  half.' 

Some  thought  one  thing,  some  another,  many  did  n't 
believe  the  report ;  but  the  next  day,  Tuesday,  Dr.  Robert- 
son arrived,  and  stayed  all  day,  and  had  long  conferences 
with  the  Doctor. 

On  Wednesday  morning,  after  prayers,  the  Doctor 
addressed  the  whole  School.  There  were  several  cases  of 
fever  in  different  houses,  he  said  ;  but  Dr.  Robertson,  after 
the  most  careful  examination,  had  assured  him  that  it  was 
not  infectious,  and  that  if  proper  care  were  taken,  there 
could  be  no  reason  for  stopping  the  school  work  at  present. 

[336] 


DEATH    IN    THE    SCHOOL 

The  examinations  were  just  coming  on,  and  it  would  be 
very  unadvisable  to  break  up  now.  However,  any  boys  who 
chose  to  do  so  were  at  Hberty  to  write  home,  and,  if  their 
parents  wished  it,  to  leave  at  once.  He  should  send  the 
whole  School  home  if  the  fever  spread. 

The  next  day  Arthur  sickened,  but  there  was  no  other  case. 
Before  the  end  of  the  week  thirty  or  forty  boys  had  gone, 
but  the  rest  stayed  on.  There  was  a  general  wish  to  please 
the  Doctor,  and  a  feeling  that  it  was  cowardly  to  run  away. 

On  the  Saturday  Thompson  died,  in  the  bright  after- 
noon, while  the  cricket-match  was  going  on  as  usual  on 
the  big-side  ground  :  the  Doctor  coming  from  his  death- 
bed, passed  along  the  gravel-walk  at  the  side  of  the  close, 
but  no  one  knew  what  had  happened  till  the  next  day.  At 
morning  lecture  it  began  to  be  rumoured,  and  by  afternoon 
chapel  was  known  generally  ;  and  a  feeling  of  seriousness 
and  awe  at  the  actual  presence  of  death  among  them,  came 
over  the  whole  School.  In  all  the  long  years  of  his  min- 
istry the  Doctor  perhaps  never  spoke  words  which  sank 
deeper  than  some  of  those  in  that  day's  sermon.  '  When  I 
came  yesterday  from  visiting  all  but  the  very  death-bed  of 
him  who  has  been  taken  from  us,  and  looked  around  upon 
all  the  familiar  objects  and  scenes  within  our  own  ground, 
where  your  common  amusements  were  going  on,  with  your 
common  cheerfulness  and  activity,  I  felt  there  was  nothing 
painful  in  witnessing  that ;  it  did  not  seem  in  any  way 
shocking  or  out  of  tune  with  those  feelings  which  the  sight 
of  a  dying  Christian  must  be  supposed  to  awaken.  The 
unsuitableness  in  point  of  natural  feeling  between  scenes 
of  mourning  and  scenes  of  liveliness  did  not  at  all  present 
itself.    But  I  did  feel  that  if  at  that  moment  any  of  those 

[337] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

faults  had  been  brought  before  me  which  sometimes  occur 
amongst  us  ;  had  I  heard  that  any  of  you  had  been  guilty 
of  falsehood,  or  of  drunkenness,  or  of  any  other  such  sin ; 
had  I  heard  from  any  quarter  the  language  of  profaneness, 
or  of  unkindness,  or  of  indecency  ;  had  I  heard  or  seen 
any  signs  of  that  wretched  folly,  which  courts  the  laugh  of 
fools  by  affecting  not  to  dread  evil  and  not  to  care  for 
good,  then  the  unsuitableness  of  any  of  these  things  with 
the  scene  I  had  just  quitted  would  indeed  have  been  most 
intensely  painful.  And  why  ?  Not  because  such  things 
would  really  have  been  worse  than  at  any  other  time,  but 
because  at  such  a  moment  the  eyes  are  opened  really  to 
know  good  and  evil,  because  we  then  feel  what  it  is  so  to 
live  as  that  death  becomes  an  infinite  blessing,  and  what  it 
is  so  to  live  also,  that  it  were  good  for  us  if  we  had  never 
been  born,' 

Tom  had  gone  into  chapel  in  sickening  anxiety  about 
Arthur,  but  he  came  out  cheered  and  strengthened  by  those 
grand  words,  and  walked  up  alone  to  their  study.  And 
when  he  sat  down  and  looked  round,  and  saw  Arthur's 
straw-hat  and  cricket-jacket  hanging  on  their  pegs,  and 
marked  all  his  little  neat  arrangements,  not  one  of  which 
had  been  disturbed,  the  tears  indeed  rolled  down  his  cheeks, 
but  they  were  calm  and  blessed  tears,  and  he  repeated  to 
himself,  '  Yes,  Geordie's  eyes  are  opened  —  he  knows  what 
it  is  so  to  live  as  that  death  becomes  an  infinite  blessing. 
But  do  I  .''    O  God,  can  I  bear  to  lose  him  ? ' 

The  week  passed  mournfully  away.  No  more  boys  sick- 
ened, but  Arthur  was  reported  worse  each  day,  and  his 
mother  arrived  early  in  the  week.  Tom  made  many  appeals 
to  be  allowed  to  see  him,  and  several  times  tried  to  get  up 

[  338  ] 


CONVALESCENCE 

to  the  sick-room  ;  but  the  housekeeper  was  ahvays  in  the 
way,  and  at  last  spoke  to  the  Doctor,  who  kindly,  but 
peremptorily,  forbade  him. 

Thompson  was  buried  on  the  Tuesday,  and  the  burial 
service,  so  soothing  and  grand  always,  but  beyond  all  words 
solemn  when  read  over  a  boy's  grave  to  his  companions, 
brought  him  much  comfort,  and  many  strange  new  thoughts 
and  longings.  He  went  back  to  his  regular  life,  and  played 
cricket  and  bathed  as  usual :  it  seemed  to  him  that  this 
was  the  right  thing  to  do,  and  the  new  thoughts  and  long- 
ings became  more  brave  and  healthy  for  the  effort.  The 
crisis  came  on  Saturday,  the  day  week  that  Thompson  had 
died  ;  and  during  that  long  afternoon  Tom  sat  in  his  study 
reading  his  Bible,  and  going  every  half-hour  to  the  house- 
keeper's room,  expecting  each  time  to  hear  that  the  gentle 
and  brave  little  spirit  had  gone  home.  But  God  had  work 
for  Arthur  to  do  :  the  crisis  passed  - —  on  Sunday  evening 
he  was  declared  out  of  danger ;  on  Monday  he  sent  a 
message  to  Tom  that  he  was  almost  well,  had  changed  his 
room,  and  was  to  be  allowed  to  see  him  the  next  day. 

It  was  evening  when  the  housekeeper  summoned  him  to 
the  sick-room.  Arthur  was  lying  on  the  sofa  by  the  open 
window,  through  which  the  rays  of  the  western  sun  stole 
gently,  lighting  up  his  white  face  and  golden  hair.  Tom 
remembered  a  German  picture  of  an  angel  which  he  knew ; 
often  had  he  thought  how  transparent  and  golden  and  spirit- 
like it  was ;  and  he  shuddered  to  think  how  like  it  Arthur 
looked,  and  felt  a  shock  as  if  his  blood  had  all  stopped 
short,  as  he  realized  how  near  the  other  world  his  friend 
must  have  been  to  look  like  that.  Never  till  that  moment 
had  he  felt  how  his  little  chum  had  twined  himself  round 

[339] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

his  heart-strings  ;  and  as  he  stole  gently  across  the  room 
and  knelt  down,  and  put  his  arm  round  Arthur's  head  on 
the  pillow,  felt  ashamed  and  half  angry  at  his  own  red  and 
brown  face,  and  the  bounding  sense  of  health  and  power 
which  filled  every  fibre  of  his  body,  and  made  every  move- 
ment of  mere  living  a  joy  to  him.  He  need  n't  have 
troubled  himself ;  it  was  this  very  strength  and  power,  so 
different  from  his  own,  which  drew  Arthur  so  to  him. 

Arthur  laid  his  thin  white  hand,  on  which  the  blue  veins 
stood  out  so  plainly,  on  Tom's  great  brown  fist,  and  smiled 
at  him  ;  and  then  looked  out  of  the  window  again,  as  if  he 
could  n't  bear  to  lose  a  moment  of  the  sunset,  into  the 
tops  of  the  great  feathery  elms,  round  which  the  rooks 
were  circling  and  clanging,  returning  in  flocks  from  their 
evening's  foraging  parties.  The  elms  rustled,  the  sparrows 
in  the  ivy  just  outside  the  window  chirped  and  fluttered 
about,  quarrelling,  and  making  it  up  again ;  the  rooks, 
young  and  old,  talked  in  chorus,  and  the  merry  shouts  of 
the  boys  and  the  sweet  click  of  the  cricket-bats  came  up 
cheerily  from  below. 

'Dear  George,'  said  Tom,  '  I  am  so  glad  to  be  let  up  to 
see  you  at  last,  I  've  tried  hard  to  come  so  often,  but  they 
would  n't  let  me  before,' 

*  Oh,  I  know,  Tom  ;  Mary  has  told  me  every  day  about 
you,  and  how  she  was  obliged  to  make  the  Doctor  speak  to 
you  to  keep  you  away.  I'm  very  glad  you  didn't  get  up, 
for  you  might  have  caught  it ;  and  you  could  n't  stand 
being  ill,  with  all  the  matches  going  on.  And  you  're  in 
the  eleven,  too,  I  hear — I'm  so  glad.' 

'Yes,  ain't  it  jolly.?'  said  Tom  proudly;  'I'm  ninth, 
too.     I  made  forty  at  the  last  pie-match,  and  caught  three 

[340] 


CONVALESCENCE 

fellows  out.  So  I  was  put  in  above  Jones  and  Tucker. 
Tucker  's  so  savage,  for  he  was  head  of  the  twenty-two.' 

'Well,  I  think  you  ought  to  be  higher  yet,'  said  Arthur, 
who  was  as  jealous  for  the  renown  of  Tom  in  games  as 
Tom  was  for  his  as  a  scholar. 

'  Never  mind,  I  don't  care  about  cricket  or  anything  now 
you're  getting  well,  Geordie  ;  and  I  shouldn't  have  hurt,  I 
know,  if  they  'd  have  let  me  come  up  —  nothing  hurts  me. 
But  you  '11  get  about  now  directly,  won't  you  ?  You  won't 
believe  how  clean  I  've  kept  the  study.  All  your  things  are 
just  as  you  left  them,  and  I  feed  the  old  magpie  just  when 
you  used,  though  I  have  to  come  in  from  big-side  for  him, 
the  old  rip.  He  won't  look  pleased  all  I  can  do,  and 
sticks  his  head  first  on  one  side  and  then  on  the  other, 
and  blinks  at  me  before  he  '11  begin  to  eat,  till  I'm  half 
inclined  to  box  his  ears.  And  whenever  East  comes  in, 
you  should  see  him  hop  off  to  the  window,  dot  and  go  one, 
though  Harry  would  n't  touch  a  feather  of  him  now.' 

Arthur  laughed.  '  Old  Gravey  has  a  good  memory ;  he 
can't  forget  the  sieges  of  poor  Martin's  den  in  old  times,' 
He  paused  a  moment,  and  then  went  on.  '  You  can't  think 
how  often  I  've  been  thinking  of  old  Martin  since  I  've  been 
ill ;  I  suppose  one's  mind  gets  restless,  and  likes  to  wander 
off  to  strange  unknown  places.  I  wonder  what  queer  new 
pets  the  old  boy  has  got ;  how  he  must  be  revelling  in  the 
thousand  new  birds,  beasts,  and  fishes  !  ' 

Tom  felt  a  pang  of  jealousy,  but  kicked  it  out  in  a 
moment.  ''  Fancy  him  on  a  South  Sea  Island,  with  the 
Cherokees  or  Patagonians,  or  some  such  wild  niggers 
(Tom's  ethnology  and  geography  were  faulty,  but  suffi- 
cient for  his  needs)  ;   they  '11  make  the  old  Madman  cock 

[341] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

medicine-man  and  tattoo  him  all  over.  Perhaps  he  's  cutting 
about  now  all  blue,  and  has  a  squaw  and  a  wigwam.  He  '11 
improve  their  boomerangs,  and  be  able  to  throw  them,  too, 
without  having  old  Thomas  sent  after  him  by  the  Doctor 
to  take  them  away.' 

Arthur  laughed  at  the  remembrance  of  the  boomerang 
story,  but  then  looked  grave  again,  and  said,  '  He  '11  convert 
all  the  Island,  I  know.' 

*  Yes,  if  he  don't  blow  it  up  first.' 

'  Do  you  remember,  Tom,  how  you  and  East  used  to 
laugh  at  him  and  chaff  him,  because  he  said  he  was  sure 
the  rooks  all  had  calling-over,  or  prayers,  or  something  of 
the  sort,  when  the  locking-up  bell  rang.?  Well,  I  declare,' 
said  Arthur,  looking  up  seriously  into  Tom's  laughing  eyes, 
'  I  do  think  he  was  right.  Since  I  've  been  lying  here,  I  've 
watched  them  every  night ;  and  do  you  know,  they  really 
do  come,  and  perch  all  of  them  just  about  locking-up 
time ;  and  then  first  there 's  a  regular  chorus  of  caws, 
and  then  they  stop  a  bit,  and  one  old  fellow,  or  perhaps 
two  or  three  in  different  trees,  caw  solos,  and  then  off 
they  all  go  again,  fluttering  about  and  cawing  anyhow  till 
they  roost.' 

'  I  wonder  if  the  old  blackies  do  talk,'  said  Tom,  looking 
up  at  them.  '  How  they  must  abuse  me  and  East,  and  pray 
for  the  Doctor  for  stopping  the  slinging.' 

'  There  !  look,  look ! '  cried  Arthur,  '  don't  you  see  the 
old  fellow  without  a  tail  coming  up  ?  Martin  used  to  call 
him  the  "clerk."  He  can't  steer  himself.  You  never  saw 
such  fun  as  he  is  in  a  high  wind,  when  he  can't  steer  him- 
self home,  and  gets  carried  right  past  the  trees,  and  has  to 
bear  up  again  and  again  before  he  can  perch.' 

[342] 


MORE    LESSONS 

The  locking-up  bell  began  to  toll,  and  the  two  boys 
were  silent,  and  listened  to  it.  The  sound  soon  carried 
Tom  off  to  the  river  and  the  woods,  and  he  began  to  go 
over  in  his  mind  the  many  occasions  on  which  he  had 
heard  that  toll  coming  faintly  down  the  breeze,  and  had  to 
pack  up  his  rod  in  a  hurry,  and  make  a  run  for  it,  to  get 
in  before  the  gates  were  shut.  He  was  roused  with  a  start 
from  his  memories  by  Arthur's  voice,  gentle  and  weak  from 
his  late  illness. 

*  Tom,  will  you  be  angry  if  I  talk  to  you  very  seriously  ? ' 
'No,  dear  old  boy,  not  I.    But  ain't  you  faint,  Arthur,  or 

ill .''    What  can  I  get  you  ?    Don't  say  anything  to  hurt  your- 
self now  —  you  are  very  weak  ;  let  me  come  up  again.' 

*  No,  no,  I  shan't  hurt  myself  :  I'd  sooner  speak  to  you 
now,  if  you  don't  mind.  I  've  asked  Mary  to  tell  the  Doctor 
that  you  are  with  me,  so  you  need  n't  go  down  to  calling- 
over ;  and  I  mayn't  have  another  chance,  for  I  shall  most 
likely  have  to  go  home  for  change  of  air  to  get  well,  and 
mayn't  come  back  this  half.' 

'  Oh,  do  you  think  you  must  go  away  before  the  end  of 
the  half.?  I'm  so  sorry.  It's  more  than  five  weeks  yet  to 
the  holidays,  and  all  the  fifth-form  examination  and  half  the 
cricket-matches  to  come  yet.  And  what  shall  I  do  all  that 
time  alone  in  our  study  ?  Why,  Arthur,  it  will  be  more 
than  twelve  weeks  before  I  see  you  again.  Oh,  hang  it,  I 
can't  stand  that !  Besides,  who  's  to  keep  me  up  to  work- 
ing at  the  examination-books  .-'  I  shall  come  out  bottom  of 
the  form,  as  sure  as  eggs  is  eggs.' 

Tom  was  rattling  on,  half  in  joke,  half  in  earnest,  for  he 
wanted  to  get  Arthur  out  of  his  serious  vein,  thinking  it 
would  do  him  harm  ;    but  Arthur  broke  in  — 

[  343  ] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

'  Oh,  please,  Tom,  stop,  or  you  '11  drive  all  I  had  to  say 
out  of  my  head.  And  I'm  already  horribly  afraid  I'm 
going  to  make  you  angry.' 

'  Don't  gammon,  young  un,'  rejoined  Tom  (the  use  of  the 
old  name,  dear  to  him  from  old  recollections,  made  Arthur 
start  and  smile,  and  feel  quite  happy)  ;  '  you  know  you  ain't 
afraid,  and  you  've  never  made  me  angry  since  the  first 
month  we  chummed  together.  Now  I'm  going  to  be  quite 
sober  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  which  is  more  than  I  am 
once  in  a  year ;  so  make  the  most  of  it ;  heave  ahead,  and 
pitch  into  me  right  and  left.' 

'Dear  Tom,  I  ain't  going  to  pitch  into  you,'  said  Arthur 
piteously  ;  '  and  it  seems  so  cocky  in  me  to  be  advising  you, 
who  've  been  my  backbone  ever  since  I  've  been  at  Rugby, 
and  have  made  the  school  a  paradise  to  me.  Ah  !  I  see 
I  shall  never  do  it,  unless  I  go  head-over-heels  at  once, 
as  you  said  when  you  taught  me  to  swim.  Tom,  I  want 
you  to  give  up  using  vulgus-books  and  cribs.' 

Arthur  sank  back  on  to  his  pillow  with  a  sigh,  as  if  the 
effort  had  been  great ;  but  the  worst  was  now  over,  and  he 
looked  straight  at  Tom,  who  was  evidently  taken  aback. 
He  leant  his  elbows  on  his  knees,  and  stuck  his  hands  into 
his  hair,  whistled  a  verse  of  'Billy  Taylor,'  and  then  was 
quite  silent  for  another  minute.  Not  a  shade  crossed  his 
face,  but  he  was  clearly  puzzled.  At  last  he  looked  up,  and 
caught  Arthur's  anxious  look,  took  his  hand,  and  said  simply : 

'  Why,  young  un  }  ' 

*  Because  you  're  the  honestest  boy  in  Rugby,  and  that 
ain't  honest.' 

'  I  don't  see  that,' 

'  What  were  you  sent  to  Rugby  for  ? ' 

[344] 


TOM'S    AMBITION 

'  Well,  I  don't  know  exactly —  nobody  ever  told  me.  I  sup- 
pose because  all  boys  are  sent  to  a  public  school  in  England.' 

'  But  what  do  you  think  yourself  ?  What  do  you  want 
to  do  here,  and  to  carry  away  ? ' 

Tom  thought  a  minute.  '  I  want  to  be  Ai  at  cricket  and 
football  and  all  the  other  games,  and  to  make  my  hands 
keep  my  head  against  any  fellow,  lout  or  gentleman.  I  want 
to  get  into  the  sixth  before  I  leave,  and  to  please  the 
Doctor ;  and  I  want  to  carry  away  just  as  much  Latin  and 
Greek  as  will  take  me  through  Oxford  respectably.  There, 
now,  young  un,  I  never  thought  of  it  before,  but  that 's 
pretty  much  about  my  figure.  Ain't  it  all  on  the  square  ? 
What  have  you  got  to  say  to  that  ? ' 

'  Why,  that  you  are  pretty  sure  to  do  all  that  you  want, 
then.' 

'  Well,  I  hope  so.  But  you  've  forgot  one  thing,  what  I 
want  to  leave  behind  me.  I  want  to  leave  behind  me,'  said 
Torn,  speaking  slow,  and  looking  much  moved,  'the  name 
of  a  fellow  who  never  bullied  a  little  boy  or  turned  his  back 
on  a  big  one.' 

Arthur  pressed  his  hand,  and  after  a  moment's  silence 
went  on  :  *  You  say,  Tom,  you  want  to  please  the  Doctor. 
Now,  do  you  want  to  please  him  by  what  he  thinks  you  do, 
or  by  what  you  really  do  ? ' 

'  By  what  I  really  do,  of  course.' 

'  Does  he  think  you  use  cribs  and  vulgus-books  ? ' 

Tom  felt  at  once  that  his  flank  was  turned,  but  he 
couldn't  give  in.  'He  was  at  Winchester  himself,'  said 
he  ;  'he  knows  all  about  it.' 

'  Yes,  but  does  he  think  ^'ou  use  them  ?  Do  you  think 
he  approves  of  it  ^ ' 

[345] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

*  You  young  villain  ! '  said  Tom,  shaking  his  fist  at  Arthur, 
half  vexed  and  half  pleased,  '  I  never  think  about  it.  Hang 
it  —  there,  perhaps  he  don't.    Well,  I  suppose  he  don't.' 

Arthur  saw  that  he  had  got  his  point ;  he  knew  his 
friend  well,  and  was  wise  in  silence  as  in  speech.  He  only 
said,  '  I  would  sooner  have  the  Doctor's  good  opinion  of 
me  as  I  really  am  than  any  man's  in  the  world.' 

After  another  minute  Tom  began  again :  *  Look  here, 
young  un,  how  on  earth  am  I  to  get  time  to  play  the  matches 
this  half,  if  I  give  up  cribs  ?  We  're  in  the  middle  of  that 
long  crabbed  chorus  in  the  Agamemnon  ;  I  can  only  just 
make  head  or  tail  of  it  with  the  crib.  Then  there  's  Pericles's 
speech  coming  on  in  Thucydides,  and  "The  Birds"  to  get 
up  for  the  examination,  besides  the  Tacitus.'  Tom  groaned 
at  the  thought  of  his  accumulated  labours.  '  I  say,  young 
un,  there's  only  five  weeks  or  so  left  to  holidays;  mayn't 
I  go  on  as  usual  for  this  half  ?  I  '11  tell  the  Doctor  about 
it  some  day,  or  you  may.' 

Arthur  looked  out  of  window  ;  the  twilight  had  come  on, 
and  all  was  silent.  He  repeated  in  a  low  voice,  '  "  In  this 
thing  the  Lord  pardon  thy  servant,  that  when  my  master 
goeth  into  the  house  of  Rimmon  to  worship  there,  and  he 
leaneth  on  my  hand,  and  I  bow  down  myself  in  the  house 
of  Rimmon,  when  I  bow  down  myself  in  the  house  of  Rim- 
mon, the  Lord  pardon  thy  servant  in  this  thing."  ' 

Not  a  word  more  was  said  on  the  subject,  and  the  boys 
were  again  silent  —  one  of  those  blessed,  short  silences  in 
which  the  resolves  which  colour  a  life  are  so  often  taken, 

Tom  was  the  first  to  break  it.  '  You  've  been  very  ill 
indeed,  haven't  you,  Geordie  ? '  said  he,  with  a  mixture  of 
awe  and  curiosity,  feeling  as  if  his  friend  had  been  in  some 

[346] 


ARTHUR    SPEAKS    OF    HIS    FEVER 

strange  place  or  scene,  of  which  he  could  form  no  idea,  and 
full  of  the  memory  of  his  own  thoughts  during  the  last  week. 

'Yes,  very.  I'm  sure  the  Doctor  thought  I  was  going  to 
die.  He  gave  me  the  Sacrament  last  Sunday,  and  you  can't 
think  what  he  is  when  one  is  ill.  He  said  such  brave, 
and  tender,  and  gentle  things  to  me.  I  felt  quite  light  and 
strong  after  it,  and  never  had  any  more  fear.  My  mother 
brought  our  old  medical  man,  who  attended  me  when  I 
was  a  poor  sickly  child  ;  he  said  my  constitution  was  quite 
changed,  and  that  I'm  fit  for  anything  now.  If  it  hadn't, 
I  could  n't  have  stood  three  days  of  this  illness.  That 's  all 
thanks  to  you,  and  the  games  you  've  made  me  fond  of.' 

'  More  thanks  to  old  Martin,'  said  Tom  ;  '  he  's  been  your 
real  friend.' 

'  Nonsense,  Tom  ;  he  never  could  have  done  for  me  what 
you  have.' 

'  Well,  I  don't  know ;  I  did  litde  enough.  Did  they  tell 
you — you  won't  mind  hearing  it  now,  I  know  —  that  poor 
Thompson  died  last  week  .?  The  other  three  boys  are  getting 
quite  round,  like  you.* 

'  Oh,  yes,  I  heard  of  it.' 

Then  Tom,  who  was  quite  full  of  it,  told  Arthur  of  the 
burial  service  in  the  chapel,  and  how  it  had  impressed  him, 
and,  he  believed,  all  the  other  boys.  '  And  though  the 
Doctor  never  said  a  word  about  it,'  said  he,  'and  it  was  a 
half-holiday  and  match  day,  there  wasn't  a  game  played 
in  the  close  all  the  afternoon,  and  the  boys  all  went  about 
as  if  it  were  Sunday.' 

'  I'm  very  glad  of  it,'  said  Arthur.  '  But,  Tom,  I  've  had 
such  strange  thoughts  about  death  lately.  I  've  never  told 
a  soul  of  them,  not  even  my  mother.     Sometimes  I  think 

I  [347] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

they  're  wrong,  but,  do  you  know,  I  don't  think  in  my  heart 
I  could  be  sorry  at  the  death  of  any  of  my  friends.' 

Tom  was  taken  quite  aback.  '  What  in  the  world  is  the 
young  un  after  now  ? '  thought  he  ;  'I  've  swallowed  a  good 
many  of  his  crotchets,  but  this  altogether  beats  me.  He 
can't  be  quite  right  in  his  head.'  He  didn't  want  to  say 
a  word,  and  shifted  about  uneasily  in  the  dark  ;  however, 
Arthur  seemed  to  be  waiting  for  an  answer,  so  at  last  he 
said,  '  I  don't  think  I  quite  see  what  you  mean,  Geordie. 
One  's  told  so  often  to  think  about  death  that  I  've  tried  it 
on  sometimes,  especially  this  last  week.  But  we  won't  talk 
of  it  now.  I'd  better  go  —  you  're  getting  tired,  and  I  shall 
do  you  harm.' 

'  No,  no,  indeed  I  ain't,  Tom  ;  you  must  stop  till  nine, 
there  's  only  twenty  minutes.  I  've  settled  you  shall  stop  till 
nine.  And,  oh  !  do  let  me  talk  to  you  —  I  must  talk  to  you. 
I  see  it 's  just  as  I  feared.  You  think  I'm  half  mad  —  don't 
you,  now  .''  ' 

'  Well,  I  did  think  it  odd  what  you  said,  Geordie,  as  you 
ask  me.' 

Arthur  paused  a  moment,  and  then  said  quickly  :  '  I  '11 
tell  you  how  it  all  happened.  At  first,  when  I  was  sent  to 
the  sick-room,  and  found  I  had  really  got  the  fever,  I  was 
terribly  frightened.  I  thought  I  should  die,  and  I  could 
not  face  it  for  a  moment.  I  don't  think  it  was  sheer  cow- 
ardice at  first,  but  I  thought  how  hard  it  was  to  be  taken 
away  from  my  mother  and  sisters,  and  you  all,  just  as  I 
was  beginning  to  see  my  way  to  many  things,  and  to  feel  that 
I  might  be  a  man  and  do  a  man's  work.  To  die  without 
having  fought,  and  worked,  and  given  one's  life  away,  was 
too  hard  to  bear.     I  got  terribly  impatient,  and  accused  God 

[  348  1 


ARTHUR    SPEAKS    OF    HIS    FEVER 

of  injustice,  and  strove  to  justify  myself  ;  and  the  harder  I 
strove  the  deeper  I  sank.  Then  the  image  of  my  dear 
father  often  came  across  me,  but  I  turned  from  it.  When- 
ever it  came,  a  heavy,  numbing  throb  seemed  to  take  hold 
of  my  heart  and  say,  "  Dead  —  dead  —  dead."  And  I  cried 
out,  "  The  living,  the  living  shall  praise  Thee,  O  God  ;  the 
dead  cannot  praise  Thee.  There  is  no  work  in  the  grave  ; 
in  the  night  no  man  can  work.  But  I  can  work.  I  can  do 
great  things.  I  will  do  great  things.  Why  wilt  Thou  slay 
me  .''  "  And  so  I  struggled  and  plunged,  deeper  and  deeper, 
and  went  down  into  a  living  black  tomb.  I  was  alone  there, 
with  no  power  to  stir  or  think  ;  alone  with  myself ;  beyond 
the  reach  of  all  human  fellowship  ;  beyond  Christ's  reach, 
I  thought,  in  my  nightmare.  You,  who  are  brave  and  bright 
and  strong,  can  have  no  idea  of  that  agony.  Pray  to  God 
you  never  may.     Pray  as  for  your  life.' 

Arthur  stopped  —  from  exhaustion,  Tom  thought ;  but 
what  between  his  fear  lest  Arthur  should  hurt  himself, 
his  awe,  and  longing  for  him  to  go  on,  he  could  n't  ask, 
or  stir  to  help  him.. 

Presently  he  went  on,  but  quite  calm  and  slow.  '  I  don't 
know  how  long  I  was  in  that  state.  For  more  than  a  day,  I 
know  ;  for  I  was  quite  conscious,  and  lived  my  outer  life  all 
the  time,  and  took  my  medicines,  and  spoke  to  my  mother, 
and  heard  what  they  said.  But  I  did  n't  take  much  note  of 
time  ;  I  thought  time  was  over  for  me,  and  that  the  tomb 
was  what  was  beyond.  Well,  on  last  Sunday  morning,  as  I 
seemed  to  lie  in  that  tomb,  alone,  as  I  thought,  for  ever 
and  ever,  the  black,  dead  wall  was  cleft  in  two,  and  I  was 
caught  up  and  borne  through  into  the  light  by  some  great 
power,  some  living,  mighty  spirit.    Tom,  do  )ou  remember 

[  349  ] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

the  living  creatures  and  the  wheels  in  Ezekiel  ?  It  was  just 
like  that :  "  When  they  went  I  heard  the  noise  of  their 
wings,  like  the  noise  of  great  waters,  as  the  voice  of  the 
Almighty,  the  voice  of  speech,  as  the  noise  of  an  host  ; 
when  they  stood  they  let  down  their  wings  .  .  .  and  they 
went  every  one  straight  forward  ;  whither  the  spirit  was  to 
go  they  went,  and  they  turned  not  when  they  went."  And 
we  rushed  through  the  bright  air,  which  was  full  of  myriads 
of  living  creatures,  and  paused  on  the  brink  of  a  great  river. 
And  the  power  held  me  up,  and  I  knew  that  that  great 
river  was  the  grave,  and  death  dwelt  there  ;  but  not  the 
death  I  had  met  in  the  black  tomb  —  that  I  felt  was  gone 
for  ever.  For  on  the  other  bank  of  the  great  river  I  saw 
men  and  women  and  children  rising  up  pure  and  bright, 
and  the  tears  were  wiped  from  their  eyes,  and  they  put  on 
glory  and  strength,  and  all  weariness  and  pain  fell  away. 
And  beyond  were  a  multitude  which  no  man  could  number, 
and  they  worked  at  some  great  work  ;  and  they  who  rose 
from  the  river  went  on  and  joined  in  the  work.  They  all 
worked,  and  each  worked  in  a  different  way,  but  all  at  the 
same  work.  And  I  saw  there  my  father,  and  the  men  in 
the  old  town  whom  I  knew  when  I  was  a  child  ;  many  a 
hard,  stern  man,  who  never  came  to  church,  and  whom  they 
called  atheist  and  infidel.  There  they  were,  side  by  side 
with  my  father,  whom  I  had  seen  toil  and  die  for  them, 
and  women  and  little  children,  and  the  seal  was  on  the  fore- 
heads of  all.  And  I  longed  to  see  what  the  work  was,  and 
could  not ;  so  I  tried  to  plunge  in  the  river,  for  I  thought 
I  would  join  them,  but  I  could  not.  Then  I  looked  about 
to  see  how  they  got  into  the  river.  And  this  I  could  not 
see,  but  I  saw  myriads  on  this  side,  and  they  too  worked, 

[350] 


ARTHUR'S    VISION 

and  I  knew  that  it  was  the  same  work  ;  and  the  same  seal 
was  on  their  foreheads.  And  though  I  saw  that  there  was 
toil  and  anguish  in  the  work  of  these,  and  that  most  that 
were  working  were  blind  and  feeble,  yet  I  longed  no  more 
to  plunge  into  the  river,  but  more  and  more  to  know  what 
the  work  was.  And  as  I  looked  I  saw  my  mother  and  my 
sisters,  and  I  saw  the  Doctor,  and  you,  Tom,  and  hundreds 
more  whom  I  knew ;  and  at  last  I  saw  myself  too,  and  I 
was  toiling  and  doing  ever  so  little  a  piece  of  the  great 
work.  Then  it  all  melted  away,  and  the  power  left  me,  and 
as  it  left  me  I  thought  I  heard  a  voice  say,  "  The  vision  is 
for  an  appointed  time  ;  though  it  tarry,  wait  for  it,  for  in 
the  end  it  shall  speak  and  not  lie,  it  shall  surely  come,  it 
shall  not  tarry,"  It  was  early  morning,  I  know,  then,  it 
was  so  quiet  and  cool,  and  my  mother  was  fast  asleep  in  the 
chair  by  my  bedside ;  but  it  was  n't  only  a  dream  of  mine. 
I  know  it  wasn't  a  dream.  Then  I  fell  into  a  deep  sleep, 
and  only  woke  after  afternoon  chapel ;  and  the  Doctor  came 
and  gave  me  the  Sacrament,  as  I  told  you.  I  told  him  and 
my  mother  I  should  get  well  —  I  knew  I  should  ;  but  I 
couldn't  tell  them  why.  Tom,'  said  Arthur,  gently,  after 
another  minute,  '  do  you  see  why  I  could  not  grieve  now 
to  see  my  dearest  friend  die .-'  It  can't  be  —  it  isn't,  all 
fever  or  illness.  God  would  never  have  let  me  see  it  so 
clear  if  it  wasn't  true.  I  don't  understand  it  all  yet  —  it 
will  take  me  my  life  and  longer  to  do  that  —  to  find  out 
what  the  work  is.' 

When  Arthur  stopped  there  was  a  long  pause.  Tom 
could  not  speak,  he  was  almost  afraid  to  breathe,  lest  he 
should  break  the  train  of  Arthur's  thoughts.  He  longed  to 
hear  more,  and  to  ask  questions.    In  another  minute  nine 

[351] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

o'clock  struck,  and  a  gentle  tap  at  the  door  called  them 
both  back  into  the  world  again.  They  did  not  answer, 
however,  for  a  moment,  and  so  the  door  opened,  and  a 
lady  came   in   carrying  a  candle. 

She  went  straight  to  the  sofa,  and  took  hold  of  Arthur's 
hand,  and  then  stooped  down  and  kissed  him. 

'  My  dearest  boy,  you  feel  a  little  feverish  again.  Why 
did  n't  you  have  lights .-'  You  've  talked  too  much,  and 
excited   yourself   in   the   dark.' 

'  Oh,  no,  mother,  you  can't  think  how  well  I  feel.  I 
shall  start  with  you  to-morrow  for  Devonshire.  But,  mother, 
here  's  my  friend,  here  's  Tom  Brown  —  you  know  him  ? ' 

'Yes,  indeed,  I've  known  him  for  years,'  she  said,  and 
held  out  her  hand  to  Tom,  who  was  now  standing  up  be- 
hind the  sofa.  This  was  Arthur's  mother.  Tall  and  slight 
and  fair,  with  masses  of  golden  hair  drawn  back  from  the 
broad  white  forehead,  and  the  calm  blue  eye  meeting  his 
so  deep  and  open  —  the  eye  that  he  knew  so  well,  for  it 
was  his  friend's  over  again,  and  the  lovely  tender  mouth 
that  trembled  while  he  looked.  She  stood  there,  a  woman 
of  thirty-eight,  old  enough  to  be  his  mother,  and  one  whose 
face  showed  the  lines  which  must  be  written  on  the  faces  of 
good  men's  wives  and  widows  —  but  he  thought  he  had  never 
seen  anything  so  beautiful.  He  couldn't  help  wondering  if 
Arthur's  sisters  were  like  her. 

Tom  held  her  hand,  and  looked  on  straight  in  her  face ; 
he  could  neither  let  it  go  nor  speak. 

'  Now,  Tom, '  said  Arthur,  laughing,  '  where  are  your 
manners  ?  —  you  '11  stare  my  mother  out  of  countenance.' 
Tom  dropped  the  little  hand  with  a  sigh.  '  There,  sit  down, 
both  of  you.    Here,  dearest  mother,  there  's  room  here  ' ;  and 

[352] 


••^'///f/.7  ^1 


S[jTk.<5vvvi^r>-;, 


■AND    THERE    GAVE    HIM    HER    HAND    AGAIN' 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

he  made  a  place  on  the  sofa  for  her.  '  Tom,  you  need  n't 
go;  I'm  sure  you  won't  be  called  up  at  first  lesson.'  Tom 
felt  that  he  would  risk  being  floored  at  every  lesson  for  the 
rest  of  his  natural  school-life  sooner  than  go ;  so  sat  down. 
'And  now,'  said  Arthur,  '  I  have  realized  one  of  the  dearest 
wishes  of  my  life  —  to  see  you  two  together.' 

And  then  he  led  away  the  talk  to  their  home  in  Devon- 
shire, and  the  red  bright  earth,  and  the  deep  green  combes, 
and  the  peat  streams  like  cairngorm  pebbles,  and  the  wild 
moor  with  its  high  cloudy  Tors  for  a  giant  background  to 
the  picture  —  till  Tom  got  jealous  and  stood  up  for  the 
clear  chalk  streams,  and  the  emerald  water-meadows  and 
great  elms  and  willows  of  the  dear  old  Royal  county,  as  he 
gloried  to  call  it.  And  the  mother  sat  on  quiet  and  loving, 
rejoicing  in  their  life.  The  quarter-to-ten  struck,  and  the 
bell  rang  for  bed,  before  they  had  well  begun  their  talk, 
as  it  seemed. 

Then  Tom  rose  with  a  sigh  to  go. 

'  Shall  I  see  you  in  the  morning,  Geordie  ? '  said  he,  as 
he  shook  his  friend's  hand.  '  Never  mind,  though  ;  you  '11 
be  back  next  half,  and  I  shan't  forget  the  house  of  Rimmon.' 

Arthur's  mother  got  up  and  walked  with  him  to  the 
door,  and  there  gave  him  her  hand  again,  and  again  his 
eyes  met  that  deep,  loving  look,  which  was  like  a  spell 
upon  him.  Her  voice  trembled  slightly  as  she  said,  '  Good 
night.  —  You  are  one  who  knows  what  our  Father  has 
promised  to  the  friend  of  the  widow  and  the  fatherless. 
May  He  deal  with  you  as  you  have  dealt  with  me  and  mine  ! ' 

Tom  was  quite  upset  ;  he  mumbled  something  about 
owing  ever)thing  good  in  him  to  Geordie  —  looked  in 
her  face  again,  pressed  her  hand  to  his  lips,  and  rushed 

[354] 


TOM'S    REWARDS 

downstairs  to  his  study,  where  he  sat  till  old  Thomas  came 
kicking  at  the  door,  to  tell  him  his  allowance  would  be 
stopped  if  he  didn't  go  off  to  bed.  (It  would  have  been 
stopped  anyhow,  but  that  he  was  a  great  favourite  with  the 
old  gentleman,  who  loved  to  come  out  in  the  afternoons 
into  the  close  to  Tom's  wicket,  and  bowl  slow  twisters 
to  him,  and  talk  of  the  glories  of  bygone  Surrey  heroes, 
with  whom  he  had  played  former  generations.)  So  Tom 
roused  himself,  and  took  up  his  candle  to  go  to  bed  ;  and 
then  for  the  first  time  was  aware  of  a  beautiful  new  fishing- 
rod,  with  old  Eton's  mark  on  it,  and  a  splendidly  bound 
Bible,  which  lay  on  his  table,  on  the  title-page  of  which 
was  written  :  '  Tom  Brown,  from  his  affectionate  and  grate- 
ful friends,  Frances  Jane  Arthur,  George  Arthur.' 

I   leave  you   all   to   guess   how   he   slept,    and   what   he 
dreamt  of. 


[355] 


O0'     ^ 


Chapter  vn 
Harry  East  ^s-Dilejpfiimy  an^d  Bdw^rame^^ 

*  The  Holy  Supper  is  kept,  indeed. 
In  zuhatso  we  share  with  another'' s  need : 
Not  what  we  give,  but  what  we  share,  — 
For  the  gift  without  the  giver  is  bare  ; 
Who  gives  himself  with  his  alms  feeds  three. 
Himself,  his  hungering  neighbour,  and  Me/ 

Lowell,  'The  Fision  of  Sir  LaunfaT 


HE  next  morning,  after  breakfast,  Tom, 
I  East,  and  Gower  met  as  usual  to  learn 
their  second  lesson  together.  Tom  had 
been  considering  how  to  break  his  pro- 
posal of  giving  up  the  crib  to  the  others, 
and  having  found  no  better  way  (as  in- 


deed none  better  can  ever  be  found  by  man  or  boy),  told 
them  simply  what  had  happened  ;  how  he  had  been  to  see 
Arthur,  who  had  talked  to  him  upon  the  subject,  and  what 

[356] 


TOM    STRINGS    HIS    MINE 

he  had  said,  and  for  his  part  he  had  made  up  his  mind,  and 
was  n't  going  to  use  cribs  any  more  :  and  not  being  quite 
sure  of  his  ground,  took  the  high  and  pathetic  tone,  and 
was  proceeding  to  say,  '  how  that  having  learnt  his  lessons 
with  them  for  so  many  years,  it  would  grieve  him  much  to 
put  an  end  to  the  arrangement,  and  he  hoped  at  any  rate 
that  if  they  would  n't  go  on  with  him,  they  should  still  be 
just  as  good  friends,  and  respect  one  another's  motives  — 
but—' 

Here  the  other  boys,  who  had  been  listening  with  open 
eyes  and  ears,  burst  in  — 

'  Stuff  and  nonsense  !  '  cried  Gower,  '  Here,  East,  get 
down   the   crib   and   find   the   place.' 

'  Oh,  Tommy,  Tommy  !  '  said  East,  proceeding  to  do  as 
he  was  bidden,  *  that  it  should  ever  have  come  to  this ! 
I  knew  Arthur  'd  be  the  ruin  of  you  some  day,  and  you 
of  me.  And  now  the  time 's  come ' —  and  he  made  a 
doleful   face. 

'  I  don't  know  about  ruin,'  answered  Tom  ;  '  I  know  that 
you  and  I  would  ha-ve  had  the  sack  long  ago,  if  it  had  n't 
been  for  him.    And  you  know  it  as  well  as  I.' 

*  Well,  we  were  in  a  baddish  way  before  he  came,  I  own ; 
but  this  new  crotchet  of  his  is  past  a  joke.' 

'  Let 's  give  it  a  trial,  Harry ;  come  —  you  know  how 
often  he  has  been  right  and  we  wrong.' 

*  Now,  don't  you  two  be  jawing  away  about  young 
Square-toes,'  struck  in  Gower.  *  He  's  no  end  of  a  sucking 
wiseacre,  I  dare  say  ;  but  we  've  no  time  to  lose  and  I  've 
got  the  fives-court  at  half-past  nine.' 

'I  say,  Gower,'  said  Tom  appealingly,  'be  a  good  fellow, 
and  let 's  try  if  we  can't  get  on  without  the  crib.' 

[357] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

'What!  in  this  chorus?  Why,  we  shan't  get  through 
ten   Hnes.' 

'  I  say,  Tom,'  cried  East,  having  hit  on  a  new  idea, 
'don't  you  remember,  when  we  were  in  the  upper  fourth 
and  old  Momus  caught  me  construing  off  the  leaf  of  a 
crib  which  I'd  torn  out  and  put  in  my  book,  and  which 
would  float  out  on  to  the  floor ;  he  sent  me  up  to  be 
flogged    for    it  ? ' 

'Yes,  I  remember  it  very  well.' 

'  Well,  the  Doctor,  after  he  'd  flogged  me,  told  me  himself 
that  he  did  n't  flog  me  for  using  a  translation,  but  for  tak- 
ing it  into  lesson,  and  using  it  there  when  I  hadn't  learnt 
a  word  before  I  came  in.  He  said  there  was  no  harm  in 
using  a  translation  to  get  a  clue  to  hard  passages,  if  you 
tried  all  you  could  first  to  make  them  out  without.' 

*  Did  he,  though  ? '  said  Tom ;  '  then  Arthur  must 
be    wrong.' 

'Of  course  he  is,'  said  Gower,  'the  little  prig.  We'll 
only  use  the  crib  when  we  can't  construe  without  it.  Go 
ahead.  East.' 

And  on  this  agreement  they  started  :  Tom,  satisfied 
with  having  made  his  confession,  and  not  sorry  to  have 
a  /ocus  poc7iitentiae,  and  not  to  be  deprived  altogether 
of  the  use  of  his  old  and  faithful  friend. 

The  boys  went  on  as  usual,  each  taking  a  sentence  in 
turn,  and  the  crib  being  handed  to  the  one  whose  turn  it 
was  to  construe.  Of  course  Tom  couldn't  object  to  this, 
as  was  it  not  simply  lying  there  to  be  appealed  to  in  case 
the  sentence  should  prove  too  hard  altogether  for  the 
construer }  But  it  must  be  owned  that  Gower  and  East 
did  not  make  very  tremendous  exertions  to  conquer  their 

[358] 


RESULTS    OF    THE    EXPLOSION 

sentences  before  having  recourse  to  its  help.  Tom,  however, 
with  the  most  heroic  virtue  and  gallantry,  rushed  into  his 
sentence,  searching  in  a  high-minded  manner  for  nomina- 
tive and  verb,  and  turning  over  his  dictionary  frantically 
for  the  first  hard  word  that  stopped  him.  But  in  the  mean- 
time Gower,  who  was  bent  on  getting  to  fives,  would  peep 
quietly  into  the  crib,  and  then  suggest,  *  Don't  you  think 
this  is  the  meaning .? '  'I  think  you  must  take  it  this  way, 
Brown';  and  as  Tom  didn't  see  his  way  to  not  profiting 
by  these  suggestions,  the  lesson  went  on  about  as  quickly 
as  usual,  and  Gower  was  able  to  start  for  the  fives-court 
within   five   minutes   of  the   half-hour. 

When  Tom  and  East  were  left  face  to  face,  they  looked 
at  one  another  for  a  minute,  Tom  puzzled  and  East  chock- 
full  of  fun,  and  then  burst  into  a  roar  of  laughter. 

'Well,  Tom,'  said  East,  recovering  himself,  'I  don't 
see  any  objection  to  the  new  way.  It 's  about  as  good  as 
the  old  one,  I  think  ;  besides  the  advantage  it  gives  one  of 
feeling  virtuous,  and  looking  down  on  one's  neighbours.' 

Tom  shoved  his.  hand  into  his  back  hair.  'I  ain't  so 
sure, '  said  he  ;  '  you  two  fellows  carried  me  off  my  legs ; 
I  don't  think  we  really  tried  one  sentence  fairly.  Are  you 
sure  you  remember  what  the  Doctor  said  to  you  ? ' 

'  Yes.  And  I  '11  swear  I  could  n't  make  out  one  of  my 
sentences  to-day.  No,  nor  ever  could.  I  really  don't 
remember,'  said  East,  speaking  slowly  and  impressively, 
'to  have  come  across  one  Latin  or  Greek  sentence  this 
half,  that  I  could  go  and  construe  by  the  light  of  nature. 
Whereby  I  am  sure  Providence  intended  cribs  to  be  used.' 

'The  thing  to  find  out,'  said  Tom  meditatively,  'is  how 
long  one  ought  to  grind  at  a  sentence  without  looking  at 

[359] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

the  crib.  Now  I  think  if  one  fairly  looks  out  all  the  words 
one  don't  know,  and  then  can't  hit  it,  that's  enough,' 

'To  be  sure.  Tommy,'  said  East  demurely,  but  with 
a  merry  twinkle  in  his  eye.  '  Your  new  doctrine,  too,  old 
fellow,'  added  he,  'when  one  comes  to  think  of  it,  is  a 
cutting  at  the  root  of  all  school  morality.  You  '11  take  away 
mutual  help,  brotherly  love,  or,  in  the  vulgar  tongue,  giving 
construes,  which  I  hold  to  be  one  of  our  highest  virtues. 
For  how  can  you  distinguish  between  getting  a  construe  from 
another  boy  and  using  a  crib .?  Hang  it,  Tom,  if  you  're 
going  to  deprive  all  our  school-fellows  of  the  chance  of  exer- 
cising Christian  benevolence  and  being  good  Samaritans,  I 
shall  cut  the  concern.' 

'  I  wish  you  would  n't  joke  about  it,  Harry ;  it 's  hard 
enough  to  see  one's  way,  a  precious  sight  harder  than 
I  thought  last  night.  But  I  suppose  there 's  a  use  and 
an  abuse  of  both,  and  one  '11  get  straight  enough  somehow. 
But  you  can't  make  out  anyhow  that  one  has  a  right  to  use 
old  vulgus-books  and  copy-books.' 

'Hullo,  more  heresy!  How  fast  a  fellow  goes  down- 
hill when  he  once  gets  his  head  before  his  legs  !  Listen 
to  me,  Tom.  Not  use  old  vulgus-books.? — why,  you  Goth! 
ain't  we  to  take  the  benefit  of  the  wisdom,  and  admire  and 
use  the  work  of  past  generations  ?  Not  use  old  copy-books  ! 
Why,  you  might  as  well  say  we  ought  to  pull  down  West- 
minster Abbey,  and  put  up  a  go-to-meeting  shop  with 
churchwarden  windows ;  or  never  read  Shakespeare,  but 
only  Sheridan  Knowles.  Think  of  all  the  work  and  labour 
that  our  predecessors  have  bestowed  on  these  very  books ; 
and  are  we  to  make  their  work  of  no  value  ? ' 

'I  say,  Harry,  please  don't  chaff;   I'm  really  serious.' 

[360] 


THE    ENEMY'S    DEFENCE 

'And  then,  is  it  not  our  duty  to  consult  the  pleasure  of 
others  rather  than  our  own,  and,  above  all,  that  of  our 
masters  ?  Fancy  then  the  difference  to  them  in  looking 
over  a  vulgus  which  has  been  carefully  touched  and 
retouched  by  themselves  and  others,  and  which  must  bring 
them  a  sort  of  dreamy  pleasure,  as  if  they  'd  met  the 
thought  or  expression  of  it  somewhere  or  another  —  before 
they  were  born,  perhaps  ;  and  that  of  cutting  up  and  mak- 
ing picture-frames  round  all  your  and  my  false  quantities, 
and  other  monstrosities.  Why,  Tom,  you  would  n't  be  so 
cruel  as  never  to  let  old  Momus  hum  over  the  "  O  genus 
humanum,"  again,  and  then  look  up  doubtingly  through  his 
spectacles,  and  end  by  smiling  and  giving  three  extra 
marks   for   it :    just   for   old   sake's    sake,    I    suppose.' 

'Well,'  said  Tom,  getting  up  in  something  as  like  a  huff 
as  he  was  capable  of,  '  it 's  deuced  hard  that  when  a  fellow 's 
really  trying  to  do  what  he  ought,  his  best  friends  '11  do 
nothing  but  chaff  him  and  try  to  put  him  down.'  And  he 
stuck  his  books  under  his  arm  and  his  hat  on  his  head, 
preparatory  to  rushing  out  into  the  quadrangle,  to  testify 
with  his  own  soul  of  the  faithlessness  of  friendships. 

'Now  don't  be  an  ass,  Tom,'  said  East,  catching  hold  of 
him,  '  you  know  me  well  enough  by  this  time  ;  my  bark 's 
worse  than  my  bite.  You  can't  expect  to  ride  your  new 
crotchet  without  anybody's  trying  to  stick  a  nettle  under  his 
tail  and  make  him  kick  you  off :  especially  as  we  shall  all 
have  to  go  on  foot  still.  But  now  sit  down  and  let 's  go 
over  it  again,    I  '11  be  as  serious  as  a  judge.' 

Then  Tom  sat  himself  down  on  the  table,  and  waxed 
eloquent  about  all  the  righteousnesses  and  advantages  of  the 
new  plan,  as  was  his  wont  whenever  he  took  up  anything ; 

[361] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

going  into  it  as  if  his  life  depended  upon  it,  and  sparing 
no  abuse  which  he  could  think  of,  of  the  opposite  method, 
which  he  denounced  as  ungentlemanly,  cowardly,  mean,  ly- 
ing, and  no  one  knows  what  besides.  'Very  cool  of  Tom,' 
as  East  thought,  but  did  n't  say,  *  seeing  as  how  he  only 
came  out  of  Egypt  himself  last  night  at  bedtime.' 

'Well,  Tom,'  said  he  at  last,  'you  see,  when  you  and  I 
came  to  school  there  were  none  of  these  sort  of  notions. 
You  may  be  right  —  I  dare  say  you  are.  Only  what  one 
has  always  felt  about  the  masters  is,  that  it 's  a  fair  trial  of 
skill  and  last  between  us  and  them  —  like  a  match  at  foot- 
ball, or  a  battle.  We  're  natural  enemies  in  school,  that 's  the 
fact.  We  've  got  to  learn  so  much  Latin  and  Greek  and  do 
so  many  verses,  and  they  've  got  to  see  that  we  do  it.  If 
we  can  slip  the  collar  and  do  so  much  less  without  getting 
caught,  that 's  one  to  us.  If  they  can  get  more  out  of  us,  or 
catch  us  shirking,  that 's  one  to  them.  All 's  fair  in  war  but 
lying.  If  I  run  my  luck  against  theirs,  and  go  into  school 
without  looking  at  my  lessons,  and  don't  get  called  up,  why 
am  I  a  snob  or  a  sneak  .?  I  don't  tell  the  master  I  've  learnt 
it.  He  's  got  to  find  out  whether  I  have  or  not ;  what 's  he 
paid  for  ?  If  he  calls  me  up  and  I  get  floored,  he  makes  me 
write  it  out  in  Greek  and  English.  Very  good ;  he  's  caught 
me,  and  I  don't  grumble.  I  grant  you,  if  I  go  and  snivel 
to  him,  and  tell  him  I  've  really  tried  to  learn  it,  but  found 
it  so  hard  without  a  translation,  or  say  I  've  had  a  toothache 
or  any  humbug  of  that  kind,  I'm  a  snob.  That 's  my  school 
morality ;  it 's  served  me,  and  you  too,  Tom,  for  the  matter 
of  that,  these  five  years.  And  it 's  all  clear  and  fair,  no  mis- 
take about  it,  Wq  understand  it,  and  they  understand  it,  and 
I  don't  know  what  we  're  to  come  to  with  any  other.' 

[362] 


THE   TRUCE 

Tom  looked  at  him  pleased,  and  a  little  puzzled.  He 
had  never  heard  East  speak  his  mind  seriously  before,  and 
could  n't  help  feeling  how  completely  he  had  hit  his  own 
theory  and  practice  up  to  that  time. 

'Thank  you,  old  fellow,'  said  he.  'You're  a  good  old 
brick  to  be  serious,  and  not  put  out  with  me.  I  said  more 
than  I  meant,  I  dare  say,  only,  you  see,  I  know  I'm  right : 
whatever  you  and  Gower  and  the  rest  do,  I  shall  hold  on  — 
I  must.  And  as  it 's  all  new  and  an  uphill  game,  you  see, 
one  must  hit  hard  and  hold  on  tight  at  first.' 

'Very  good,'  said  East ;  'hold  on  and  hit  away,  only  don't 
hit  under  the  line.' 

'  But  I  must  bring  you  over,  Harry,  or  I  shan't  be  com- 
fortable. Now,  I  '11  allow  all  you  've  said.  We  've  always 
been  honourable  enemies  with  the  masters.  We  found  a 
state  of  war  when  we  came,  and  went  into  it  of  course. 
Only  don't  you  think  things  are  altered  a  good  deal .-'  I 
don't  feel  as  I  used  to  the  masters.  They  seem  to  me  to 
treat  one  quite  differently.' 

'Yes,  perhaps  they  do,'  said  East;  'there's  a  new  set, 
you  see,  mostly,  who  don't  feel  sure  of  themselves  yet. 
They  don't  want  to  fight  till  they  know  the  ground.' 

'  I  don't  think  it's  only  that,'  said  Tom.  'And  then  the 
Doctor,  he  does  treat  one  so  openly,  and  like  a  gentleman, 
and  as  if  one  was  working  with  him.' 

'Well,  so  he  does,'  said  East;  'he's  a  splendid  fellow, 
and  when  I  get  into  the  sixth  I  shall  act  accordingly.  Only 
you  know  he  has  nothing  to  do  with  our  lessons  now, 
except  examining  us.  I  say,  though,'  looking  at  his  watch, 
'  it 's  just  the  quarter.    Come  along.' 

As  they  walked   out  they  got  a   message  to  say,    'that 

[363] 


TOM  BROWN'S  SCHOOL- DAYS 

Arthur  was  just  starting  and  would  like  to  say  good-bye ' 
so  they  went  down  to  the  private  entrance  of  the  School- 
house,  and  found  an  open  carriage,  with  Arthur  propped  up 
with  pillows  in  it,  looking  already  better,  Tom  thought. 

They  jumped  up  on  to  the  steps  to  shake  hands  with 
him,  and  Tom  mumbled  thanks  for  the  presents  he  had 
found  in  his  study,  and  looked  round  anxiously  for  Arthur's 
mother. 

East,  who  had  fallen  back  into  his  usual  humour,  looked 
quaintly  at  Arthur,  and  said  — 

'  So  you  've  been  at  it  again,  through  that  hot-headed  con- 
vert of  yours  there.  He  's  been  making  our  lives  a  burthen 
to  us  all  the  morning  about  using  cribs.  I  shall  get  floored 
to  a  certainty  at  second  lesson,  if  I'm  called  up.' 

Arthur  blushed  and  looked  down.    Tom  struck  in  — 

'  Oh,  it 's  all  right.  He  's  converted  already  ;  he  always 
comes  through  the  mud  after  us,  grumbling  and  sputtering,' 

The  clock  struck,  and  they  had  to  go  off  to  school,  wish- 
ing Arthur  a  pleasant  holiday ;  Tom  lingering  behind  a 
moment  to  send  his  thianks  and  love  to  Arthur's  mother. 

Tom  renewed  the  discussion  after  second  lesson,  and 
succeeded  so  far  as  to  get  East  to  promise  to  give  the  new 
plan  a  fair  trial. 

Encouraged  by  his  success,  in  the  evening,  when  they 
were  sitting  alone  in  the  large  study,  where  East  lived  now 
almost,  'vice  Arthur  on  leave,'  after  examining  the  new 
fishing-rod,  which  both  pronounced  to  be  the  genuine  article 
(*  play  enough  to  throw  a  midge  tied  on  a  single  hair  against 
the  wind,  and  strength  enough  to  hold  a  grampus '),  they 
naturally  began  talking  about  Arthur.  Tom,  who  was  still 
bubbling  over  with  last  night's  scene  and  all  the  thoughts 

[364] 


THE    SIEGE    REOPENS 

of  the  last  week,  and  wanting  to  clinch  and  fix  the  whole 
in  his  own  mind,  which  he  could  never  do  without  first 
going  through  the  process  of  belabouring  somebody  else 
with  it  all,  suddenly  rushed  into  the  subject  of  Arthur's 
illness,  and  what  he  had  said  about  death. 
.  East  had  given  him  the  desired  opening :  after  a  serio- 
comic grumble,  '  that  life  was  n't  worth  having  now  they 
were  tied  to  a  young  beggar  who  was  always  "  raising  his 
standard  "  ;  and  that  he,  East,  was  like  a  prophet's  donkey, 
who  was  obliged  to  struggle  on  after  the  donkey-man  who 
went  after  the  prophet ;  that  he  had  none  of  the  pleasure 
of  starting  the  new  crotchets,  and  did  n't  half  understand 
them,  but  had  to  take  the  kicks  and  carry  the  luggage  as  if 
he  had  all  the  fun '  —  he  threw  his  legs  up  on  to  the  sofa, 
and  put  his  hands  behind  his  head,  and  said  — 

'  Well,  after  all,  he  's  the  most  wonderful  little  fellow  I 
ever  came  across.  There  ain't  such  a  meek,  humble  boy  in 
the  School.  Hanged  if  I  don't  think  now  really,  Tom,  that 
he  believes  himself  a  much  worse  fellow  than  you  or  I,  and 
that  he  don't  think  he  has  more  influence  in  the  house  than 
Dot  Bowles,  who  came  last  quarter,  and  ain't  ten  yet.  But 
he  turns  you  and  me  round  his  little  finger,  old  boy  — 
there  's  no  mistake  about  that.'  And  East  nodded  at  Tom 
sagaciously. 

'  Now  or  never  ! '  thought  Tom  ;  so  shutting  his  eyes  and 
hardening  his  heart,  he  went  straight  at  it,  repeating  all 
that  Arthur  had  said,  as  near  as  he  could  remember  it,  in 
the  very  words,  and  all  he  had  himself  thought.  The  life 
seemed  to  ooze  out  of  it  as  he  went  on,  and  several  times 
he  felt  inclined  to  stop,  give  it  all  up,  and  change  the  sub- 
ject.    But  somehow  he  was  borne  on,  he  had  a  necessity 

[365] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

upon  him  to  speak  it  all  out,  and  did  so.  At  the  end  he 
looked  at  East  with  some  anxiety,  and  was  delighted  to 
see  that  that  young  gentleman  was  thoughtful  and  attentive. 
The  fact  is,  that  in  the  stage  of  his  inner  life  at  which  Tom 
had  lately  arrived,  his  intimacy  with  and  friendship  for  East 
could  not  have  lasted  if  he  had  not  made  him  aware  of,  and 
a  sharer  in,  the  thoughts  that  were  beginning  to  exercise 
him.  Nor  indeed  could  the  friendship  have  lasted  if  East 
had  shown  no  sympathy  with  these  thoughts  ;  so  that  it  was 
a  great  relief  to  have  unbosomed  himself,  and  to  have  found 
that  his  friend  could  listen. 

Tom  had  always  had  a  sort  of  instinct  that  East's  levity 
was  only  skin-deep  ;  and  this  instinct  was  a  true  one.  East 
had  no  want  of  reverence  for  anything  he  felt  to  be  real : 
but  his  was  one  of  those  natures  that  burst  into  what  is 
generally  called  recklessness  and  impiety  the  moment  they 
feel  that  anything  is  being  poured  upon  them  for  their 
good,  which  does  not  come  home  to  their  inborn  sense  of 
right,  or  which  appeals  to  anything  like  self-interest  in  them. 
Daring  and  honest  by  nature,  and  outspoken  to  an  extent 
which  alarmed  all  respectabilities,  w^ith  a  constant  fund  of 
animal  health  and  spirits  which  he  did  not  feel  bound  to 
curb  in  any  way,  he  had  gained  for  himself  with  the  steady 
part  of  the  School  (including  as  well  those  who  wished  to 
appear  steady  as  those  who  really  were  so)  the  character  of 
a  boy  whom  it  would  be  dangerous  to  be  intimate  with  ; 
while  his  own  hatred  of  everything  cruel,  or  underhand,  or 
false,  and  his  hearty  respect  for  what  he  could  see  to  be 
good  and  true,  kept  off  the  rest. 

Tom,  besides  being  very  like  East  in  many  points  of 
character,    had    largely    developed    in    his  composition   the 

[366] 


FRIENDSHIP    TESTED 

capacity  for  taking  the  weakest  side.  This  is  not  putting  it 
strongly  enough  ;  it  was  a  necessity  with  him,  he  could  n't 
help  it  any  more  than  he  could  eating  or  drinking.  He 
could  never  play  on  the  strongest  side  with  any  heart  at 
football  or  cricket,  and  was  sure  to  make  friends  with  any 
boy  who  was  unpopular,  or  down  on  his  luck. 

Now,  though  East  was  not  what  is  generally  called  un- 
popular, Tom  felt  more  and  more  every  day,  as  their  char- 
acters developed,  that  he  stood  alone,  and  did  not  make 
friends  among  their  contemporaries  ;  and  therefore  sought 
him  out.  Tom  was  himself  much  more  popular,  for  his 
power  of  detecting  humbug  was  much  less  acute,  and  his 
instincts  were  much  more  sociable.  He  was  at  this  period 
of  his  life,  too,  largely  given  to  taking  people  for  what  they 
gave  themselves  out  to  be ;  but  his  singleness  of  heart,  fear- 
lessness, and  honesty  were  just  what  East  appreciated,  and 
thus  the  two  had  been  drawn  into  great  intimacy. 

This  intimacy  had  not  been  interrupted  by  Tom's 
guardianship    of    Arthur. 

East  had  often,  as-  has  been  said,  joined  them  in  reading 
the  Bible  ;  but  their  discussions  had  almost  always  turned 
upon  the  characters  of  the  men  and  women  of  whom  they 
read,  and  not  become  personal  to  themselves.  In  fact,  the 
two  had  shrunk  from  personal  religious  discussion,  not 
knowing  how  it  might  end  ;  and  fearful  of  risking  a  friend- 
ship very  dear  to  both,  and  which  they  felt  somehow,  with- 
out quite  knowing  why,  would  never  be  the  same,  but  either 
tenfold  stronger  or  sapped  at  its  foundation,  after  such  a 
communing  together. 
'  What  a  bother  all  this  explaining  is  !  I  wish  we  could 
get  on  without  it.    But  we  can't.     However,  you  '11  all  find, 

[  367  ] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

if  you  haven't  found  it  out  already,  that  a  time  comes  in 
every  human  friendship,  when  you  must  go  down  into  the 
depths  of  yourself,  and  lay  bare  what  is  there  to  your  friend, 
and  wait  in  fear  for  his  answer.  A  few  moments  may  do  it ; 
and  it  may  be  (most  likely  will  be,  as  you  are  English  boys) 
that  you  never  do  it  but  once.  But  done  it  must  be,  if  the 
friendship  is  to  be  worth  the  name.  You  must  find  what  is 
there,  at  the  very  root  and  bottom  of  one  another's  hearts ; 
and  if  you  are  at  one  there,  nothing  on  earth  can,  or  at  least 
ought  to,  sunder  you. 

East  had  remained  lying  down  until  Tom  finished  speak- 
ing, as  if  fearing  to  interrupt  him  ;  he  now  sat  up  at  the 
table,  and  leant  his  head  on  one  hand,  taking  up  a  pencil 
with  the  other,  and  working  little  holes  with  it  in  the  table- 
cover.  After  a  bit  he  looked  up,  stopped  the  pencil,  and 
said,  '  Thank  you  ver)'  much,  old  fellow ;  there  's  no  other 
boy  in  the  house  would  have  done  it  for  me  but  you  or 
Arthur.  I  can  see  well  enough,'  he  went  on  after  a  pause, 
'  all  the  best  big  fellows  look  on  me  with  suspicion  ;  they 
think  I'm  a  devil-may-care,  reckless  young  scamp.  So  I 
am  —  eleven  hours  out  of  twelve,  but  not  the  twelfth.  Then 
all  of  our  contemporaries  worth  knowing  follow  suit,  of 
course  ;  we  're  very  good  friends  at  games  and  all  that,  but 
not  a  soul  of  them  but  you  and  Arthur  ever  tried  to  break 
through  the  crust,  and  see  whether  there  was  anything  at 
the  bottom  of  me  ;  and  then  the  bad  ones  I  won't  stand, 
and  they  know  that.' 

'  Don't  you  think  that 's  half  fancy,  Harry  ? ' 
'Not  a  bit  of  it,'  said  East  bitterly,  pegging  away  with 
his  pencil.    '  I  see  it  all  plain  enough.    Bless  you,  you  think 
everybody  's  as  straightforward  and  kindhearted  as  you  are.' 

[368] 


EAST'S    CONFESSIONS 

*  Well,  but  what 's  the  reason  of  it  ?  There  must  be  a 
reason.  You  can  play  all  the  games  as  well  as  any  one,  and 
sing  the  best  song,  and  are  the  best  company  in  the  house. 
You  fancy  you  're  not  liked,  Harry,    It 's  all  fancy.' 

'  I  only  wish  it  was,  Tom.  I  know  I  could  be  popular 
enough  with  all  the  bad  ones,  but  that  I  won't  have,  and 
the  good  ones  won't  have  me.' 

'Why  not.'' '  persisted  Tom  ;  'you  don't  drink  or  swear, 
or  get  out  at  night ;  you  never  bully,  or  cheat  at  lessons. 
If  you  only  showed  you  liked  it,  you  'd  have  all  the  best 
fellows  in  the  house  running  after  you.' 

'Not  I,'  said  East.  Then  with  an  effort  he  went  on: 
'  I'll  tell  you  what  it  is.  I  never  stop  the  Sacrament.  I  can 
see,  from  the  Doctor  downwards,  how  that  tells  against  me.' 

'Yes,  I've  seen  that,'  said  Tom,  'and  I've  been  very 
sorry  for  it,  and  Arthur  and  I  have  talked  about  it.  I  've 
often  thought  of  speaking  to  you,  but  it 's  so  hard  to  begin 
on  such  subjects.  I'm  very  glad  you  've  opened  it.  Now, 
why  don't  you  .? ' 

'  I  've  never  been  confirmed,'  said  East. 

'  Not  been  confirmed  !  '  said  Tom  in  astonishment.  '  I 
never  thought  of  that.  Why  weren't  you  confirmed  with 
the  rest  of  us  nearly  three  years  ago  .-*  I  always  thought 
you  'd  been  confirmed  at  home.' 

'No,'  answered  East  sorrowfully;  'you  see,  this  was  how 
it  happened.  Last  Confirmation  was  soon  after  Arthur 
came,  and  you  were  so  taken  up  with  him,  I  hardly  saw 
either  of  you.  Well,  when  the  Doctor  sent  round  for  us 
about  it,  I  was  living  mostly  with  Green's  set  —  you  know 
the  sort.  They  all  went  in  —  I  dare  say  it  was  all  right,  and 
they  got  good  by  it ;  I  don't  want  to  judge  them.    Only  all 

[369] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 


I  could  see  of  their  reasons  drove  me  just  the  other  way. 
'T  was  "  because  the  Doctor  Hked  it" ;  "no  boy  got  on  who 
didn't  stay  the  Sacrament";  it  was  "the  correct  thing,"  — 
in  fact,  hke  having  a  good  hat  to  wear  on  Sundays.  I 
couldn't  stand  it.  I  didn't  feel  that  I  wanted  to  lead  a 
different  life,  I  was  very  well  content  as  I  was,  and  I  was  n't 
going  to  sham  religious  to  curry  favour  with  the  Doctor,  or 
any  one  else.' 

East  stopped  speaking,  and  pegged  away  more  diligently 
than  ever  with  his  pencil.  Tom  was  ready  to  cry.  He  felt 
half  sorry  at  first  that  he  had  been  confirmed  himself.  He 
seemed  to  have  deserted  his  earliest  friend,  to  have  left 
him  by  himself  at  his  worst  need  for  those  long  years. 
He  got  up  and  went  and  sat  by  East  and  put  his  arm  over 
his  shoulder. 

'  Dear  old  boy,'  he  said,  '  how  careless  and  selfish  I  've 
been.  But  why  didn't  you  come  and  talk  to  Arthur 
and  me  .-* ' 

'I  wish  to  Heaven  I  had,'  said  East,  'but  I  was  a  fool. 
It 's  too  late  talking  of  it  now.' 

'  Why  too  late .-'  You  want  to  be  confirmed  now,  don't 
you  ? ' 

'I  think  so,'  said  East.  'I've  thought  about  it  a  good 
deal :  only  often  I  fancy  I  must  be  changing  because  I  see 
it 's  to  do  me  good  here,  just  what  stopped  me  last  time. 
And  then  I  go  back  again.' 

'  I  '11  tell  you  now  how  'twas  with  me,'  said  Tom  warmly. 
*  If  it  had  n't  been  for  Arthur,  I  should  have  done  just  as 
you  did.  I  hope  I  should.  I  honour  you  for  it.  But  then 
he  made  it  out  just  as  if  it  was  taking  the  weak  side  before 
all  the   world  —  going   in   once   for  all  against   everything 

[370] 


TOM'S    PRESCRIPTION 

that 's  strong  and  rich  and  proud  and  respectable,  a  Httle 
band  of  brothers  against  the  whole  world.  And  the  Doctor 
seemed  to  say  so  too,  only  he  said  a  great  deal  more.' 

'Ah  ! '  groaned  East,  '  but  there  again,  that 's  just  another 
of  my  difficulties  whenever  I  think  about  the  matter.  I  don't 
want  to  be  one  of  your  saints,  one  of  your  elect,  whatever 
the  right  phrase  is.  My  sympathies  are  all  the  other  way ; 
with  the  many,  the  poor  devils  who  run  about  the  streets 
and  don't  go  to  church.  Don't  stare,  Tom ;  mind,  I'm 
telling  you  all  that 's  in  my  heart  —  as  far  as  I  know  it  — 
but  it 's  all  a  muddle.  You  must  be  gentle  with  me  if  you 
want  to  land  me.  Now  I  've  seen  a  deal  of  this  sort  of  re- 
ligion, I  was  bred  up  in  it,  and  I  can't  stand  it.  If  nineteen- 
twentieths  of  the  world  are  to  be  left  to  uncovenanted 
mercies,  and  that  sort  of  thing,  which  means  in  plain  Eng- 
lish to  go  to  hell,  and  the  other  twentieth  are  to  rejoice  at 
it  all,  why  — ' 

'  Oh  !  but,  Harry,  they  ain't,  they  don't,'  broke  in  Tom, 
really  shocked.  'Oh,  how  I  wish  Arthur  hadn't  gone!  I'm 
such  a  fool  about  these  things.  But  it 's  all  you  want  too. 
East  ;  it  is  indeed.  It  cuts  both  ways  somehow,  being  con- 
firmed and  taking  the  Sacrament.  It  makes  you  feel  on  the 
side  of  all  the  good  and  all  the  bad  too,  of  everybody  in  the 
world.  Only  there  's  some  great  dark  strong  power,  which 
is  crushing  you  and  everybody  else.  That 's  what  Christ 
conquered,  and  we  've  got  to  fight.  What  a  fool  I  am !  I 
can't  explain.     If  Arthur  were  only  here  !  ' 

'  I  begin  to  get  a  glimmering  of  what  you  mean,'  said 
East. 

'I  say  now,'  said  Tom  eagerly,  'do  you  remember  how 
we  both  hated  Flashman  ? ' 

[371] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

*  Of  course  I  do,'  said  East ;  '  I  hate  him  still.  What  then  ? ' 

*  Well,  when  I  came  to  take  the  Sacrament,  I  had  a  great 
struggle  about  that.  I  tried  to  put  him  out  of  my  head  ; 
and  when  I  could  n't  do  that,  I  tried  to  think  of  him  as 
evil,  as  something  that  the  Lord  who  was  loving  me  hated, 
and  which  I  might  hate  too.  But  it  wouldn't  do.  I  broke 
down  :  I  believe  Christ  Himself  broke  me  down  ;  and  when 
the  Doctor  gave  me  the  bread  and  wine,  and  leant  over  me 
praying,  I  prayed  for  poor  Flashman,  as  if  it  had  been  you 
or  Arthur.' 

East  buried  his  face  in  his  hands  on  the  table.  Tom 
could  feel  the  table  tremble.  At  last  he  looked  up.  '  Thank 
you  again,  Tom,'  said  he;  'you  don't  know  what  you  may 
have  done  for  me  to-night.  I  think  I  see  now  how  the 
right  sort  of  sympathy  with  poor  devils  is  got  at.' 

'  And  you  '11  stop  the  Sacrament  next  time,  won't  you  .-* ' 
said  Tom. 

'Can  I,  before  I'm  confirmed.?' 

'  Go  and  ask  the  Doctor.' 

'  I  will.' 

That  very  night,  after  prayers.  East  followed  the  Doctor 
and  the  old  Verger  bearing  the  candle,  upstairs.  Tom 
watched,  and  saw  the  Doctor  turn  round  when  he  heard 
footsteps  following  him  closer  than  usual,  and  say,  '  Hah, 
East !    Do  you  want  to  speak  to  me,  my  man  ? ' 

'  If  you  please,  sir  ' ;  and  the  private  door  closed,  and  Tom 
went  to  his  study  in  a  state  of  great  trouble  of  mind. 

It  was  almost  an  hour  before  East  came  back :  then  he 
rushed  in  breathless. 

'Well,  it's  all  right,'  he  shouted,  seizing  Tom  by  the 
hand.    '  I  feel  as  if  a  ton  weight  were  off  my  mind.' 

[372] 


THE    EFFECT   THEREOF 

'  Hurra,'  said  Tom.  '  I  knew  it  would  be,  but  tell  us  all 
about  it.' 

'  Well,  I  just  told  him  all  about  it.  You  can't  think  how 
kind  and  gentle  he  was,  the  great  grim  man,  whom  I  've 
feared  more  than  anybody  on  earth.  When  I  stuck,  he 
lifted  me,  just  as  if  I'd  been  a  little  child.  And  he  seemed 
to  know  all  I'd  felt,  and  to  have  gone  through  it  all.  And 
I  burst  out  crying  —  more  than  I  've  done  this  five  years, 
and  he  sat  down  by  me,  and  stroked  my  head  ;  and  I  went 
blundering  on,  and  told  him  all ;  much  worse  things  than 
I  've  told  you.  And  he  was  n't  shocked  a  bit,  and  did  n't 
snub  me,  or  tell  me  I  was  a  fool,  and  it  was  all  nothing 
but  pride  or  wickedness,  though  I  dare  say  it  was.  And 
he  did  n't  tell  me  not  to  follow  out  my  thoughts,  and  he 
didn't  give  me  any  cut-and-dried  explanation.  But  when 
I'd  done  he  just  talked  a  bit  —  I  can  hardly  remember 
what  he  said,  yet ;  but  it  seemed  to  spread  round  me  like 
healing,  and  strength,  and  light ;  and  to  bear  me  up,  and 
plant  me  on  a  rock,  where  I  could  hold  my  footing,  and 
fight  for  myself.  I  don't  know  what  to  do,  I  feel  so  happy. 
And  it 's  all  owing  to  you,  dear  old  boy  !  '  and  he  seized 
Tom's  hand  again. 

*  And  you  're  to  come  to  the  Communion  ?  '  said  Tom. 

'Yes,  and  to  be  confirmed  in  the  holidays.' 

Tom's  delight  was  as  great  as  his  friend's.  But  he 
had  n't  yet  had  out  all  his  own  talk,  and  was  bent  on 
improving  the  occasion  :  so  he  proceeded  to  propound 
Arthur's  theory  about  not  being  sorry  for  his  friends' 
deaths,  which  he  had  hitherto  kept  in  the  background,  and 
by  which  he  was  much  exercised ;  for  he  did  n't  feel  it 
honest  to  take  what  pleased  him  and  throw  over  the  rest, 

[373] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

and  was  trying  vigorously  to  persuade  himself  that  he  should 
like  all  his  best  friends  to  die  off-hand. 

But  East's  powers  of  remaining  serious  were  exhausted, 
and  in  five  minutes  he  was  saying  the  most  ridiculous 
things  he  could  think  of,  till  Tom  was  almost  getting 
angry  again. 

Despite  of  himself,  however,  he  couldn't  help  laughing 
and  giving  it  up,  when  East  appealed  to  him  with  •  Well, 
Tom,  you  ain't  going  to  punch  my  head,  I  hope,  because 
I  insist  upon  being  sorry  when  you  get  to  earth  .-• ' 

And  so  their  talk  finished  for  that  time,  and  they  tried 
to  learn  first  lesson  ;  with  ver)'  poor  success,  as  appeared 
ne.xt  morning,  when  they  were  called  up  and  narrowly 
escaped  being  floored,  which  ill-luck,  however,  did  not  sit 
heavily  on  either  of  their  souls. 


[374] 


Sfom  !Brown!<s  JLast Match 

'■  Heaven  grant  the  manlier  heart,  that  timely,  ere 
Touth  Jiy,  with  lifers  real  tempest  would  be  coping  ; 
The  fruit  of  dreamy  hoping 
Is,  waking,  blank  despair.'' 

Clough,  'Arnbarvalia ' 


jHE  curtain  now  rises  upon  the  last  act  of  our 
little  drama  —  for  hard-hearted  publishers 
warn  me  that  a  single  volume  must  of 
necessity  have  an  end.  Well,  well !  the 
pleasantest  things  must  come  to  an  end, 
I  little  thought  last  long  vacation,  when  I 
began  these  pages  to  help  while  away  some  spare  time  at 
a  watering-place,  how  vividly  many  an  old  scene,  which  had 

[375] 


TOM  BROWN'S  SCHOOL- DAYS 

lain  hid  away  for  years  in  some  dusty  old  corner  of  my 
brain,  would  come  back  again,  and  stand  before  me  as  clear 
and  bright  as  if  it  had  happened  yesterday.  The  book  has 
been  a  most  grateful  task  to  me,  and  I  only  hope  that  all 
you,  my  dear  young  friends  who  read  it  (friends  assuredly 
you  must  be,  if  you  get  as  far  as  this),  will  be  half  as  sorry 
to  come  to  the  last  stage  as  I  am. 

Not  but  what  there  has  been  a  solemn  and  a  sad  side  to 
it.  As  the  old  scenes  became  living,  and  the  actors  in  them 
became  living  too,  many  a  grave  in  the  Crimea  and  distant 
India,  as  well  as  in  the  quiet  churchyards  of  our  dear  old 
countr)-,  seemed  to  open  and  send  forth  their  dead,  and 
their  voices  and  looks  and  ways  were  again  in  one's  ears 
and  eyes,  as  in  the  old  school-days.  But  this  was  not 
sad ;  how  should  it  be,  if  we  believe  as  our  Lord  has 
taught  us?  IIow  should  it  be,  when  one  more  turn  of  the 
wheel,  and  we  shall  be  by  their  sides  again,  learning  from 
them  again,  perhaps,  as  we  did  when  we  were  new  boys } 

Then  there  were  others  of  the  old  faces  so  dear  to  us 
once,  who  had  somehow  or  another  just  gone  clean  out  of 
sight  —  are  they  dead  or  living  ?  We  know  not,  but  the 
thought  of  them  brings  no  sadness  with  it.  Wherever 
they  are,  we  can  well  believe  they  are  doing  God's  work 
and  getting  His  wages. 

But  are  there  not  some,  whom  we  still  see  sometimes  in 
the  streets,  whose  haunts  and  homes  we  know,  whom  we 
could  probably  find  almost  any  day  in  the  week  if  we  were 
set  to  do  it,  yet  from  whom  we  are  really  farther  than  we 
are  from  the  dead,  and  from  those  who  have  gone  out  of 
our  ken  ?  Yes,  there  are  and  must  be  such ;  and  therein 
lies  the  sadness  of  old  School  memories.    Yet  of  these  our 

[376] 


SCHOOL    MEMORIES 

old  comrades,  from  whom  more  than  time  and  space  sepa- 
rate  us,  there  are  some,  by  whose  sides  we  can  feel  sure 
that  we  shall  stand  again  when  time  shall  be  no  more. 
We  may  think  of  one  another  now  as  dangerous  fanatics 
or  narrow  bigots,  with  whom  no  truce  is  possible,  from 
whom  we  shall  only  sever  more  and  more  to  the  end  of 
our  lives,  whom  it  would  be  our  respective  duties  to 
imprison  or  hang,  if  we  had  the  power.  We  must  go  our 
way,  and  they  theirs,  as  long  as  flesh  and  spirit  hold 
together :  but  let  our  own  Rugby  poet  speak  words  of 
healing  for  this  trial  :  — 


'to 


'  To  veer  how  vain  !  on,  onward  strain, 
Brave  barks  !  in  light,  in  darkness  too  ; 
Through  winds  and  tides  one  compass  guides, 
To  that,  and  your  own  selves,  be  true. 

'  But,  O  blithe  breeze !  and  O  great  seas. 
Though  ne'er,  that  earliest  parting  past, 
On  your  wide  plain  they  join  again. 
Together  lead  them  home  at  last. 

'  One  port,  methought,  alike  they  sought. 
One  purpose  hold  where'er  they  fare. 
O  bounding  breeze,  O  rushing  seas  I 
At  last,  at  last,  unite  them  there  ! '  * 

This  is  not  mere  longing,  it  is  prophecy.  So  over  these 
too,  our  old  friends  who  are  friends  no  more,  we  sorrow 
not  as  men  without  hope.  It  is  only  for  those  who  seem 
to  us  to  have  lost  compass  and  purpose,  and  to  be  driven 
helplessly  on  rocks  and  quicksands  ;  whose  lives  are  spent 
in  the  service  of  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil,  for 

*  Clough's  '  Ambarvalia.' 
[377] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

self  alone,  and  not  for  their  fellow-men,  their  country,  or 
their  God,  that  we  must  mourn  and  pray  without  sure  hope 
and  without  light ;  trusting  only  that  He,  in  whose  hands 
they  as  well  as  we  are,  who  has  died  for  them  as  well 
as  for  us,  who  sees  all  His  creatures 

'  With  larger  other  eyes  than  ours, 
To  make  allowance  for  us  all,' 

will,  in  His  own  way  and  at  His  own  time,  lead  them 
also  home. 

Another  two  years  have  passed,  and  it  is  again  the  end 
of  the  summer  half-year  at  Rugby  ;  in  fact,  the  School  has 
broken  up.  The  fifth-form  examinations  were  over  last 
week,  and  upon  them  have  followed  the  Speeches,  and  the 
sixth-form  examinations  for  exhibitions  ;  and  they  too  are 
over  now.  The  boys  have  gone  to  all  the  winds  of  heaven, 
except  the  town  boys  and  the  eleven,  and  the  few  enthusi- 
asts besides  who  have  asked  leave  to  stay  in  their  houses 
to  see  the  result  of  the  cricket  matches.  For  this  year  the 
Wellesburn  return  match  and  the  Marylebone  match  are 
played  at  Rugby,  to  the  great  delight  of  the  town  and 
neighbourhood,  and  the  sorrow  of  those  aspiring  young 
cricketers  who  have  been  reckoning  for  the  last  three 
.months   on   showing   off  at   Lord's   ground. 

The  Doctor  started  for  the  Lakes  yesterday  morning, 
after  an  interview  with  the  Captain  of  the  eleven,  in  the 
presence  of  Thomas,  at  which  he  arranged  in  what  School 
the  cricket  dinners  were  to  be,  and  all  other  matters  neces- 
sary for  the  satisfactory  carrying  out  of  the  festivities  ;  and 
warned  them  as  to  keeping  all  spirituous  liquors  out  of  the 
close,  and  having  the  gates  closed  by  nine  o'clock. 

[378] 


CRICKET    IN    THE    SCHOOL   CLOSE 

The  Wellesburn  match  was  played  out  with  great  success 
yesterday,  the  School  winning  by  three  wickets  ;  and  to-day 
the  great  event  of  the  cricketing  year,  the  Marylebone 
match,  is  being  played.  What  a  match  it  has  been  !  The 
London  eleven  came  down  by  an  afternoon  train  yesterday, 
in  time  to  see  the  end  of  the  Wellesburn  match  ;  and  as 
soon  as  it  was  over,  their  leading  men  and  umpire  inspected 
the  ground,  criticising  it  rather  unmercifully.  The  Captain 
of  the  School  eleven,  and  one  or  two  others,  who  had 
played  the  Lord's  match  before,  and  knew  old  Mr.  Aislabie 
and  several  of  the  Lord's  men,  accompanied  them  :  while 
the  rest  of  the  eleven  looked  on  from  under  the  Three 
Trees  with  admiring  eyes,  and  asked  one  another  the 
names  of  the  illustrious  strangers,  and  recounted  how 
many  runs  each  of  them  had  made  in  the  late  matches  in 
BelVs  Life.  They  looked  such  hard-bitten,  wiry,  whiskered 
fellows,  that  their  young  adversaries  felt  rather  desponding 
as  to  the  result  of  the  morrow's  match.  The  ground  was 
at  last  chosen,  and  two  men  set  to  work  upon  it  to  water 
and  roll ;  and  then,  there  being  yet  some  half-hour  of  day- 
light, some  one  had  suggested  a  dance  on  the  turf.  The 
close  was  half  full  of  citizens  and  their  families,  and  the 
idea  was  hailed  with  enthusiasm.  The  cornopean-player 
was  still  on  the  ground  ;  in  five  minutes  the  eleven  and 
half  a  dozen  of  the  Wellesburn  and  Marylebone  men  got 
partners  somehow  or  another,  and  a  merry  country-dance 
was  going  on,  to  which  every  one  flocked,  and  new  couples 
joined  in  every  minute,  till  there  were  a  hundred  of  them 
going  down  the  middle  and  up  again  —  and  the  long  line 
of  School  buildings  looked  gravely  down  on  them,  every 
window  glowing  with   the   last   rays   of   the   western    sun, 

[379] 


TOM  BROWN'S  SCHOOL- DAYS 

and  the  rooks  clanged  about  in  the  tops  of  the  old  elms, 
greatly  excited,  and  resolved  on  having  their  country-dance 
too,  and  the  great  flag  flapped  lazily  in  the  gentle  western 
breeze.  Altogether  it  was  a  sight  which  would  have  made 
glad  the  heart  of  our  brave  old  founder,  Lawrence  Sheriff, 
if  he  were  half  as  good  a  fellow  as  I  take  him  to  have 
been.  It  was  a  cheerful  sight  to  see  ;  but  what  made  it  so 
valuable  in  the  sight  of  the  Captain  of  the  School  eleven 
was,  that  he  there  saw  his  young  hands  shaking  off  their 
shyness  and  awe  of  the  Lord's  men,  as  they  crossed  hands 
and  capered  about  on  the  grass  together  ;  for  the  strangers 
entered  into  it  all,  and  threw  away  their  cigars,  and  danced 
and  shouted  like  boys ;  while  old  Mr.  Aislabie  stood  by 
looking  on  in  his  white  hat,  leaning  on  a  bat,  in  benevolent 
enjoyment.  '  This  hop  will  be  worth  thirty  runs  to  us 
to-morrow,  and  will  be  the  making  of  Raggles  and  Johnson,' 
thinks  the  young  leader,  as  he  revolves  many  things  in  his 
mind,  standing  by  the  side  of  Mr.  Aislabie,  whom  he  will 
not  leave  for  a  minute,  for  he  feels  that  the  character  of 
the  School  for  courtesy  is  resting  on  his  shoulders. 

But  when  a  quarter  to  nine  struck,  and  he  saw  old 
Thomas  beginning  to  fidget  about  with  the  keys  in  his 
hand,  he  thought  of  the  Doctor's  parting  monition,  and 
stopped  the  cornopean  at  once,  notwithstanding  the  loud- 
voiced  remonstrances  from  all  sides  ;  and  the  crowd  scat- 
tered away  from  the  close,  the  eleven  all  going  into  the 
School-house,  where  supper  and  beds  were  provided  for 
them   by   the    Doctor's   orders. 

Deep  had  been  the  consultations  at  supper  as  to  the 
order  of  going  in,  who  should  bowl  the  first  over,  whether 
it  would  be  best  to  play  steady  or  freely ;  and  the  youngest 

[380] 


THE    MARYLEBONE    MATCH 

hands  declared  that  they  should  n't  be  a  bit  nervous,  and 
praised  their  opponents  as  the  j oiliest  fellows  in  the  world, 
except  perhaps  their  old  friends  the  Wellesburn  men. 
How  far  a  little  good-nature  from  their  elders  will  go  with 
the  right  sort  of  boys ! 

The  morning  had  dawned  bright  and  warm,  to  the  in- 
tense relief  of  many  an  anxious  youngster,  up  betimes  to 
mark  the  signs  of  the  weather.  The  eleven  went  down  in  a 
body  before  breakfast  for  a  plunge  in  the  cold  bath  in  the 
corner  of  the  close.  The  ground  was  in  splendid  order,  and 
soon  after  ten  o'clock,  before  spectators  had  arrived,  all  was 
ready,  and  two  of  the  Lord's  men  took  their  places  at  the 
wicket ;  the  School,  with  the  usual  liberality  of  young  hands, 
having  put  their  adversaries  in  first.  Old  Bailey  stepped  up 
to  the  wicket,  and  called  play,  and  the  match  has  begun. 

'  Oh,  well  bowled !  well  bowled,  Johnson !  '  cries  the 
Captain,  catching  up  the  ball  and  sending  it  high  above 
the  rook  trees,  while  the  third  Marylebone  man  walks 
away  from  the  wicket,  and  old  Bailey  gravely  sets  up  the 
middle  stump  again  and  puts  the  bails  on. 

'  How  many  runs  ? '  Away  scamper  three  boys  to  the 
scoring-table,  and  are  back  again  in  a  minute  amongst  the 
rest  of  the  eleven,  who  are  collected  together  in  a  knot 
between  wicket.  '  Only  eighteen  runs,  and  three  wickets 
down  !  '  '  Huzza  for  old  Rugby !  '  sings  out  Jack  Raggles 
the  long-stop,  toughest  and  burliest  of  boys,  commonly 
called  '  Swiper  Jack  '  ;  and  forthwith  stands  on  his  head, 
and  brandishes  his  legs  in  the  air  in  triumph,  till  the  next 
boy  catches  hold  of  his  heels,  and  throws  him  over  on  to 
his  back. 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

'Steady  there,  don't  be  such  an  ass,  Jack,'  says  the 
Captain;  'we  haven't  got  the  best  wicket  yet.  Ah,  look 
out  now  at  cover-point,'  adds  he,  as  he  sees  a  long-armed, 
bare-headed,  slashing-looking  player  coming  to  the  wicket. 
'  And,  Jack,  mind  your  hits  ;  he  steals  more  runs  than  any 
man  in  England.' 

And  they  all  find  that  they  have  got  their  work  to  do 
now ;  the  new-comer's  off-hitting  is  tremendous,  and  his 
running  like  a  flash  of  lightning.  He  is  never  in  his 
ground,  except  when  his  wicket  is  down.  Nothing  in  the 
whole  game  so  trying  to  boys  ;  he  has  stolen  three  byes  in 
the  first  ten  minutes,  and  Jack  Raggles  is  furious,  and 
begins  throwing  over  savagely  to  the  further  wicket,  until 
he  is  sternly  stopped  by  the  Captain.  It  is  all  that  young 
gentleman  can  do  to  keep  his  team  steady,  but  he  knows 
that  everything  depends  on  it,  and  faces  his  work  bravely. 
The  score  creeps  up  to  fifty,  the  boys  begin  to  look  blank, 
and  the  spectators,  who  are  now  mustering  strong,  are  very 
silent.  The  ball  flies  off  his  bat  to  all  parts  of  the  field, 
and  he  gives  no  rest  and  no  catches  to  any  one.  But 
cricket  is  full  of  glorious  chances,  and  the  goddess  who 
presides  over  it  loves  to  bring  down  the  most  skilful 
players.  Johnson  the  young  bowler  is  getting  wild,  and 
bowls  a  ball  almost  wide  to  the  off ;  the  batter  steps  out 
and  cuts  it  beautifully  to  where  cover-point  is  standing 
very  deep,  in  fact  almost  off  the  ground.  The  ball  comes 
skimming  and  twisting  along  about  three  feet  from  the 
ground ;  he  rushes  at  it,  and  it  sticks  somehow  or  other 
in  the  fingers  of  his  left  hand,  to  the  utter  astonishment 
of  himself  and  the  whole  field.  Such  a  catch  has  n't  been 
made  in  the  close  for  years,  and  the  cheering  is  maddening. 

[382] 


DETAILS    OF    THE    MATCH 

'Pretty  cricket,'  says  the  Captain,  throwing  himself  on  the 
ground  by  the  deserted  wicket  with  a  long  breath  ;  he  feels 
that  a  crisis  has  passed. 

I  wish  I  had  space  to  describe  the  whole  match  ;  how 
the  Captain  stumped  the  next  man  off  a  leg-shooter,  and 
bowled  slow  cobs  to  old  Mr.  Aislabie,  who  came  in  for 
the  last  wicket.  How  the  Lord's  men  were  out  by  half- 
past  twelve  o'clock  for  ninety-eight  runs.  How  the  Captain 
of  the  School  eleven  went  in  first  to  give  his  men  pluck, 
and  scored  twenty-five  in  beautiful  style  ;  how  Rugby  was 
only  four  behind  in  the  first  innings.  What  a  glorious 
dinner  they  had  in  the  fourth-form  School,  and  how  the 
cover-point  hitter  sang  the  most  topping  comic  songs,  and 
old  Mr.  Aislabie  made  the  best  speeches  that  ever  were 
heard,  afterwards.  But  I  have  n't  space,  that 's  the  fact,  and 
so  you  must  fancy  it  all,  and  carry  yourselves  on  to  half- 
past  seven  o'clock,  when  the  School  are  again  in,  with  five 
wickets  down  and  only  thirty-two  runs  to  make  to  win. 
The  Marylebone  men  played  carelessly  in  their  second 
innings,  but  they  are  working  like  horses  now  to  save 
the    match. 

There  is  much  healthy,  hearty,  happy  life  scattered  up 
and  down  the  close  ;  but  the  group  to  which  I  beg  to  call 
your  especial  attention  is  there,  on  the  slope  of  the  island, 
which  looks  towards  the  cricket-ground.  It  consists  of  three 
figures  ;  two  are  seated  on  a  bench,  and  one  on  the  ground 
at  their  feet.  The  first,  a  tall,  slight,  and  rather  gaunt 
man,  with  a  bushy  eyebrow,  and  a  dry,  humorous  smile,  is 
evidently  a  clergyman.  He  is  carelessly  dressed,  and  looks 
rather  used  up,  which  is  n't  much  to  be  wondered  at,  seeing 
that  he  has  just  finished  six  weeks  of  examination  work  ;  but 

[383] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

there  he  basks,  and  spreads  himself  out  in  the  evening  sun, 
bent  on  enjoying  Hfe,  though  he  does  n't  quite  know  what  to 
do  with  his  arms  and  legs.  Surely  it  is  our  friend  the  young 
Master,  whom  we  have  had  glimpses  of  before,  but  his  face 
has  gained  a  great  deal  since  we  last  came  across  him. 

And  by  his  side,  in  white  flannel  shirt  and  trousers, 
straw  hat,  the  Captain's  belt,  and  the  untanned  yellow 
cricket  shoes  which  all  the  eleven  wear,  sits  a  strapping 
figure,  near  six  feet  high,  with  ruddy  tanned  face  and 
whiskers,  curly  brown  hair,  and  a  laughing,  dancing  eye. 
He  is  leaning  forward  with  his  elbows  resting  on  his  knees, 
and  dandling  his  favourite  bat  with  which  he  has  made 
thirty  or  forty  runs  to-day,  in  his  strong  brown  hands.  It 
is  Tom  Brown,  grown  into  a  young  man  nineteen  years 
old,  a  praepostor  and  Captain  of  the  eleven,  spending  his 
last  day  as  a  Rugby  boy,  and  let  us  hope  as  much  wiser 
as  he  is  bigger,  since  we  last  had  the  pleasure  of  coming 
across  him. 

And  at  their  feet  on  the  warm  dry  ground,  similarly 
dressed,  sits  Arthur,  Turkish  fashion,  with  his  bat  across 
his  knees.  He,  too,  is  no  longer  a  boy,  less  of  a  boy,  in 
fact,  than  Tom,  if  one  may  judge  from  the  thoughtfulness 
of  his  face,  which  is  somewhat  paler,  too,  than  one  could 
wish  ;  but  his  figure,  though  slight,  is  well  knit  and  active, 
and  all  his  old  timidity  has  disappeared,  and  is  replaced  by 
silent,  quaint  fun,  with  which  his  face  twinkles  all  over,  as 
he  listens  to  the  broken  talk  between  the  other  two,  in 
which   he   joins   every   now   and   then. 

All  three  are  watching  the  game  eagerly,  and  joining  in 
the  cheering  which  follows  every  good  hit.  It  is  pleasing 
to  see  the  easy,  friendly  footing  which  the  pupils  are  on 

[384] 


'S^Im'*^^'^ 


I  \i,,     Mil  '(■ 


V 


'ON    THE   SLOPE    OF   THE    ISLAND' 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

* 

with  their  master,  perfectly  respectful,  yet  with  no  reserve, 
and  nothing  forced  in  their  intercourse.  Tom  has  clearly 
abandoned  the  old  theory  of  '  natural  enemies  '  in  this  case, 
at  any  rate. 

But  it  is  time  to  listen  to  what  they  are  saying,  and  see 
what  we  can  gather  out  of  it. 

'I  don't  object  to  your  theory,'  says  the  master,  'and  I 
allow  )ou  have  made  a  fair  case  for  yourself.  But  now,  in 
such  books  as  Aristophanes,  for  instance,  you  've  been 
reading  a   play   this   half   with  the  Doctor,  have  n't  you  i  ' 

*  Yes,  the  Knights,'  answered  Tom. 

'Well,  I'm  sure  you  would  have  enjoyed  the  wonderful 
humour  of  it  twice  as  much  if  you  had  taken  more  pains 
with  your  scholarship.' 

'Well,  sir,  I  don't  believe  any  boy  in  the  form  enjoyed 
the  sets-to  between  Cleon  and  the  Sausage-seller  more  than 
I  did  —  eh,  Arthur  ? '  said  Tom,  giving  him  a  stir  with 
his   foot. 

'Yes,  I  must  say  he  did,'  said  Arthur.  'I  think,  sir, 
you  've   hit   upon   the   wrong  book   there.' 

'Not  a  bit  of  it,'  said  the  master.  'Why,  in  those  very 
passages  of  arms,  how  can  you  thoroughly  appreciate  them 
unless  you  are  master  of  the  weapons  .''  and  the  weapons 
are  the  language,  which  you.  Brown,  have  never  half 
worked  at ;  and  so,  as  I  say,  you  must  have  lost  all  the 
delicate  shades  of  meaning  which  make  the  best  part 
of  the   fun.' 

'  Oh  !  well  played  —  bravo,  Johnson  !  '  shouted  Arthur, 
dropping  his  hat  and  clapping  furiously,  and  Tom  joined 
in  with  a  '  Bravo,  Johnson  !  '  which  might  have  been  heard 
at  the  chapel. 

[386] 


i 


GREEK    PARTICLES    v.    CRICKET 

'Eh!  what  was  it?  I  didn't  see,'  inquired  the  master; 
*  they  only  got  one  run,  I  thought  ? ' 

'  No,  but  such  a  ball,  three-quarters  length,  and  coming 
straight  for  his  leg-bail.  Nothing  but  that  turn  of  the  wrist 
could  have  saved  him,  and  he  drew  it  away  to  leg  for  a 
safe  one.    Bravo,  Johnson  !  ' 

'How  well  they  are  bowling,  though,'  said  Arthur,  'they 
don't  mean  to  be  beat,  I  can  see.' 

'There,  now,'  struck  in  the  master,  'you  see  that's  just 
what  I  have  been  preaching  this  half-hour.  The  delicate 
play  is  the  true  thing.  I  don't  understand  cricket,  so  I  don't 
enjoy  those  fine  draws  which  you  tell  me  are  the  best  play, 
though  when  you  or  Raggles  hit  a  ball  hard  away  for  six  I 
am  as  delighted  as  any  one.    Don't  you  see  the  analogy?' 

'Yes,  sir,'  answered  Tom,  looking  up  roguishly,  'I  see; 
only  the  question  remains  whether  I  should  have  got  most 
good  by  understanding  Greek  particles  or  cricket  thoroughly. 
I'm  such  a  thick,  I  never  should  have  had  time  for  both.' 

'  I  see  you  are  an  incorrigible,'  said  the  master  with 
a  chuckle  ;  '  but  I  refute  you  by  an  example.  Arthur  there 
has  taken  in  Greek  and  cricket  too.' 

'  Yes,  but  no  thanks  to  him  ;  Greek  came  natural  to  him. 
Why,  when  he  first  came  I  remember  he  used  to  read 
Herodotus  for  pleasure  as  I  did  Don  Quixote,  and  couldn't 
have  made  a  false  concord  if  he  'd  tried  ever  so  hard  — 
and  then  I  looked  after  his  cricket.' 

'  Out !  Bailey  has  given  him  out  —  do  you  see,  Tom  ? ' 
cries  Arthur.     '  How  foolish  of  them  to  run  so  hard  !  ' 

'  Well,  it  can't  be  helped,  he  has  played  very  well. 
Whose  turn   is   it  to  go   in  ? ' 

'  I  don't  know ;  they  've  got  your  list  in  the  tent.' 

[387] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

'  Let  *s  go  and  see,'  said  Tom,  rising ;  but  at  this  moment 
Jack  Raggles  and  two  or  three  more  came  running  to  the 
island  moat. 

'  Oh,  Brown,  may  n't  I  go  in  next  ? '  shouts  the  Swiper. 

'  Whose  name  is  next  on  the  hst  ? '  says  the  Captain. 

'Winter's,  and  then  Arthur's,'  answers  the  boy  who 
carries  it ;  '  but  there  are  only  twenty-six  runs  to  get,  and 
no  time  to  lose.  I  heard  Mr.  Aislabie  say  that  the  stumps 
must  be  drawn  at  a  quarter-past  eight  exactly.' 

'  Oh,  do  let  the  Swiper  go  in,'  chorus  the  boys  ;  so  Tom 
yields  against  his  better  judgment. 

'  I  dare  say  now  I  've  lost  the  match  by  this  nonsense,' 
he  says,  as  he  sits  down  again  ;  '  they  '11  be  sure  to  get 
Jack's  wicket  in  three  or  four  minutes ;  however,  you  '11 
have  the  chance,  sir,  of  seeing  a  hard  hit  or  two,'  adds  he, 
smiling,  and  turning  to  the  master. 

'Come,  none  of  your  irony,  Brown,'  answers  the  master. 
'  I'm  beginning  to  understand  the  game,  scientifically.  What 
a  noble  game  it  is,  too !  ' 

'  Is  n't  it  ?  But  it 's  more  than  a  game.  It 's  an  institu- 
tion,' said  Tom. 

'Yes,'  said  Arthur,  'the  birthright  of  British  boys  old  and 
young,  as  habeas  corpus  and  trial  by  jury  are  of  British  men.' 

'  The  discipline  and  reliance  on  one  another  which  it 
teaches  is  so  valuable,  I  think,'  went  on  the  master,  'it 
ought  to  be  such  an  unselfish  game.  It  merges  the  indi- 
vidual in  the  eleven  ;  he  does  n't  play  that  he  may  win,  but 
that  his  side  may.' 

'That's  very  true,'  said  Tom,  'and  that's  why  football 
and  cricket,  now  one  comes  to  think  of  it,  are  such  better 
games  than  fives  or  hare-and-hounds,  or  any  others  where 

[388] 


THE    DOCTOR'S    REFORMS 

the  object  is  to  come  in  first  or  to  win  for  oneself,  and  not 
that  one's  side  may  win.' 

'  And  then  the  Captain  of  the  eleven  !  '  said  the  master, 
'  what  a  post  is  his  in  our  School-world  !  almost  as  hard  as 
the  Doctor's  ;  requiring  skill  and  gentleness  and  firmness, 
and  I  know  not  what  other  rare  qualities.' 

'  Which  don't  he  wish  he  may  get  ? '  said  Tom,  laughing; 
'  at  any  rate,  he  has  n't  got  them  yet,  or  he  would  n't  have 
been  such  a  flat  to-night  as  to  let  Jack  Raggles  go  in  out 
of  his  turn.' 

'Ah!  the  Doctor  never  would  have  done  that,'  said 
Arthur  demurely.  '  Tom,  you  've  a  great  deal  to  learn  yet 
in  the  art  of  ruling.' 

'  Well,  I  wish  you  'd  tell  the  Doctor  so,  then,  and  get 
him  to  let  me  stop  till  I'm  twenty.  I  don't  want  to  leave, 
I'm  sure.' 

'What  a  sight  it  is,'  broke  in  the  master,  'the  Doctor 
as  a  ruler.  Perhaps  ours  is  the  only  little  corner  of  the 
British  Empire  which  is  thoroughly,  wisely,  and  strongly 
ruled  just  now.  I'm  more  and  more  thankful  every  day  of 
my  life  that  I  came  here  to  be  under  him.' 

'So  am  I,  I'm  sure,'  said  Tom;  'and  more  and  more 
sorry  that  I  've  got  to  leave.' 

'  Every  place  and  thing  one  sees  here  reminds  one  of 
some  wise  act  of  his,'  went  on  the  master.  'This  island 
now — you  remember  the  time,  Brown,  when  it  was  laid 
out  in  small  gardens,  and  cultivated  by  frostbitten  fags  in 
February  and  March  ? ' 

'Of  course  I  do,'  said  Tom;  'didn't  I  hate  spending 
two  hours  in  the  afternoons  grubbing  in  the  tough  dirt  with 
the  stump  of  a  fives-bat .''    But  turf-cajt  was  good  fun  enough.' 

[389] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

'  I  dare  say  it  was,  but  it  was  always  leading  to  fights  with 
the  townspeople ;  and  then  the  stealing  flowers  out  of  all 
the  gardens  in  Rugby  for  the  Easter  show  was  abominable.' 

'Well,  so  it  was,'  said  Tom,  looking  down,  'but  we  fags 
could  n't  help  ourselves.  But  what  has  that  to  do  with  the 
Doctor's  ruling .? ' 

'A  great  deal,  I  think,'  said  the  master;  'what  brought 
island-fagging  to  an  end  ? ' 

'  Why,  the  Easter  Speeches  were  put  off  till  Midsummer,' 
said  Tom,  'and  the  sixth  had  the  g)'mnastic  poles  put  up  here.' 

'  Well,  and  who  changed  the  time  of  the  Speeches,  and 
put  the  idea  of  g)'mnastic  poles  into  the  heads  of  their 
worships  the  sixth  form  .-' '  said  the  master. 

'The  Doctor,  I  suppose,'  said  Tom.  'I  never  thought 
of  that.' 

'Of  course  you  didn't,'  said  the  master,  'or  else,  fag  as 
you  were,  you  would  have  shouted  with  the  whole  school 
against  putting  down  old  customs.  And  that 's  the  way  that 
all  the  Doctor's  reforms  have  been  carried  out  when  he  has 
been  left  to  himself  —  quietly  and  naturally  putting  a  good 
thing  in  the  place  of  a  bad,  and  letting  the  bad  die  out ; 
no  wavering  and  no  hurry  —  the  best  thing  that  could  be 
done  for  the  time  being,  and  patience  for  the  rest.' 

'Just  Tom's  own  way,'  chimed  in  Arthur,  nudging  Tom 
with  his  elbow,  '  driving  a  nail  where  it  will  go  '  ;  to  which 
allusion  Tom  answered  by  a  sly  kick. 

*  Exactly  so,'  said  the  master,  innocent  of  the  allusion 
and  by-play. 

Meantime  Jack  Raggles,  with  his  sleeves  tucked  up  above 
his  great  brown  elbows,  scorning  pads  and  gloves,  has  pre- 
sented himself  at  the  wicket ;    and  having  run  one  for  a 

[390] 


i( 


THE    FINISH    OF    THE    MATCH 

forward  drive  of  Johnson's,  is  about  to  receive  his  first  ball. 
There  are  only  twenty-four  runs  to  make,  and  four  wickets 
to  go  down  ;  a  winning  match  if  they  play  decently  steady. 
The  ball  is  a  very  swift  one,  and  rises  fast,  catching  Jack 
on  the  outside  of  the  thigh,  and  bounding  away  as  if  from 
india-rubber,  while  they  run  two  for  a  leg-bye  amidst  great 
applause,  and  shouts  from  Jack's  many  admirers.  The  next 
ball  is  a  beautifully  pitched  ball  for  the  outer  stump,  which 
the  reckless  and  unfeeling  Jack  catches  hold  of,  and  hits 
right  round  to  leg  for  five,  while  the  applause  becomes 
deafening  :  only  seventeen  runs  to  get  with  four  wickets  — 
the  game  is  all  but  ours  ! 

It  is  over  now,  and  Jack  walks  swaggering  about  his 
wicket,  with  the  bat  over  his  shoulder,  while  Mr.  Aislabie 
holds  a  short  parley  with  his  men.  Then  the  cover-point 
hitter,  that  cunning  man,  goes  on  to  bowl  slow  twisters. 
Jack  waves  his  hand  triumphantly  towards  the  tent,  as 
much  as  to  say,  '  See  if  I  don't  finish  it  all  off  now  in 
three  hits.' 

Alas,  my  son  Jack  !  the  enemy  is  too  old  for  thee.  The 
first  ball  of  the  over  Jack  steps  out  and  meets,  swiping  with 
all  his  force.  If  he  had  only  allowed  for  the  twist !  but  he 
hasn't,  and  so  the  ball  goes  spinning  up  straight  into  the 
air,  as  if  it  would  never  come  down  again.  Away  runs  Jack, 
shouting  and  trusting  to  the  chapter  of  accidents,  but  the 
bowler  runs  steadily  under  it,  judging  every  spin,  and  calling 
out  '  I  have  it,'  catches  it,  and  playfully  pitches  it  on  to  the 
back  of  the  stalwart  Jack,  who  is  departing  with  a  rueful 
countenance. 

'I  knew  how  it  would  be,'  says  Tom,  rising.  'Come 
along,  the  game  's  getting  very  serious.' 

[391] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

So  they  leave  the  island  and  go  to  the  tent,  and  after 
deep  consultation  Arthur  is  sent  in,  and  goes  off  to  the 
wicket  with  a  last  exhortation  from  Tom  to  play  steady  and 
keep  his  bat  straight.  To  the  suggestions  that  Winter  is 
the  best  bat  left,  Tom  only  replies,  'Arthur  is  the  steadiest, 
and  Johnson  will  make  the  runs  if  the  wicket  is  only  kept  up.' 

'  I  am  surprised  to  see  Arthur  in  the  eleven,'  said  the 
master,  as  they  stood  together  in  front  of  the  dense  crowd, 
which  was  now  closing  in  round  the  ground. 

'Well,  I'm  not  quite  sure  that  he  ought  to  be  in  for  his 
play,'  said  Tom,  'but  I  couldn't  help  putting  him  in.  It  will 
do  him  so  much  good,  and  you  can't  think  what  I  owe  him.' 

The  master  smiled.  The  clock  strikes  eight,  and  the 
whole  field  becomes  fevered  with  excitement.  Arthur,  after 
two  narrow  escapes,  scores  one  ;  and  Johnson  gets  the  ball. 
The  bowling  and  fielding  are  superb,  and  Johnson's  batting 
worthy  the  occasion.  He  makes  here  a  two,  and  there  a 
one,  managing  to  keep  the  ball  to  himself,  and  Arthur 
backs  up  and  runs  perfectly :  only  eleven  runs  to  make 
now.  and  the  crowd  scarcely  breathe.  At  last  Arthur  gets 
the  ball  again,  and  actually  drives  it  forward  for  two,  and 
feels  prouder  than  when  he  got  the  three  best  prizes,  at 
hearing  Tom's  shout  of  joy,  '  Well  played,  well  played, 
young  un  !  ' 

But  the  next  ball  is  too  much  for  a  young  hand,  and  his 
bails  fly  different  ways.  Nine  runs  to  make,  and  two  wickets 
to  go  down  —  it  is  too  much  for  human  nerves. 

Before  Winter  can  get  in,  the  omnibus  which  is  to  take 
the  Lord's  men  to  the  train  pulls  up  at  the  side  of  the 
close,  and  I\Ir.  Aislabie  and  Tom  consult,  and  give  out 
that  the  stumps  will  be  drawn  after  the  next  over.    And  so 

[392] 


TEA   WITH    THE    MASTER 

ends  the  great  match.  Winter  and  Johnson  carry  out  their 
bats,  and,  it  being  a  one  day's  match,  the  Lord's  men  are 
declared  the  winners,  they  having  scored  the  most  in  the 
first  innings. 

But  such  a  defeat  is  a  victory :  so  think  Tom  and  all 
the  School  eleven,  as  they  accompany  their  conquerors  to 
the  omnibus,  and  send  them  off  with  three  ringing  cheers, 
after  Mr.  Aislabie  has  shaken  hands  all  round,  saying  to 
Tom,  '  I  must  compliment  you,  sir,  on  your  eleven,  and  I  hope 
we  shall  have  you  for  a  member  if  you  come  up  to  town.' 

As  Tom  and  the  rest  of  the  eleven  were  turning  back 
into  the  close,  and  everybody  was  beginning  to  cry  out  for 
another  country-dance,  encouraged  by  the  success  of  the 
night  before,  the  young  master,  who  was  just  leaving  the 
close,  stopped  him,  and  asked  him  to  come  up  to  tea  at 
half-past  eight,  adding,  *  I  won't  keep  you  more  than  half 
an  hour,  and  ask  Arthur  to  come  up  too.' 

*  I  '11  come  up  with  you  directly,  if  you  '11  let  me,'  said 
Tom,  '  for  I  feel  rather  melancholy,  and  not  quite  up  to  the 
countr)''-dance  and  supper  with  the  rest.' 

'  Do  by  all  means,'  said  the  master  ;  '  I  '11  wait  here  for  you.' 

So  Tom  went  off  to  get  his  boots  and  things  from  the 
tent,  to  tell  Arthur  of  the  invitation,  and  to  speak  to  his 
second  in  command  about  stopping  the  dancing  and  shut- 
ting up  the  close  as  soon  as  it  grew  dusk.  Arthur  promised 
to  follow  as  soon  as  he  had  had  a  dance.  So  Tom  handed 
his  things  over  to  the  man  in  charge  of  the  tent,  and  walked 
quietly  away  to  the  gate  where  the  master  was  waiting,  and 
the  two  took  their  way  together  up  the  Hillmorton  road. 

Of  course  they  found  the  master's  house  locked  up,  and 
all  the  servants  away  in  the  close,  about  this  time  no  doubt 

[393] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

footing  it  away  on  the  grass  with  extreme  dehght  to  them- 
selves, and  in  utter  obHvion  of  the  unfortunate  bachelor 
their  master,  whose  one  enjoyment  in  the  shape  of  meals 
was  his  '  dish  of  tea '  (as  our  grandmothers  called  it)  in  the 
evening ;  and  the  phrase  was  apt  in  his  case,  for  he  always 
poured  his  out  into  the  saucer  before  drinking.  Great  was 
the  good  man's  horror  at  finding  himself  shut  out  of  his 
own  house.  Had  he  been  alone,  he  would  have  treated  it 
as  a  matter  of  course,  and  would  have  strolled  contentedly 
up  and  down  his  gravel-walk  until  some  one  came  home  ;  but 
he  was  hurt  at  the  stain  on  his  character  of  host,  especially  as 
the  guest  was  a  pupil.  However,  the  guest  seemed  to  think 
it  a  great  joke,  and  presently,  as  they  poked  about  round 
the  house,  mounted  a  wall,  from  which  he  could  reach  a 
passage  window :  the  window,  as  it  turned  out,  was  not 
bolted,  so  in  another  minute  Tom  was  in  the  house  and 
down  at  the  front  door,  which  he  opened  from  inside.  The 
master  chuckled  grimly  at  this  burglarious  entry,  and  in- 
sisted on  leaving  the  hall-door  and  two  of  the  front  windows 
open,  to  frighten  the  truants  on  their  return  ;  and  then  the 
two  set  about  foraging  for  tea,  in  which  operation  the  mas- 
ter was  much  at  fault,  having  the  faintest  possible  idea  of 
where  to  find  anything,  and  being,  moreover,  wondrously 
short-sighted  ;  but  Tom  by  a  sort  of  instinct  knew  the  right 
cupboards  in  the  kitchen  and  pantry,  and  soon  managed 
to  place  on  the  snuggery  table  better  materials  for  a  meal 
than  had  appeared  there  probably  during  the  reign  of  his 
tutor,  who  was  then  and  there  initiated,  amongst  other  things, 
•into  the  excellence  of  that  mysterious  condiment,  a  dripping- 
cake.  The  cake  was  newly  baked,  and  all  rich  and  flaky ; 
Tom  had  found  it  reposing  in  the  cook's  private  cupboard, 

[394] 


NEWS    OF    HARRY    EAST 

awaiting  her  return  ;  and  as  a  warning  to  her,  they  finished 
it  to  the  last  crumb.  The  kettle  sang  away  merrily  on  the 
hob  of  the  snuggery,  for,  notwithstanding  the  time  of  year, 
they  lighted  a  fire,  throwing  both  the  windows  wide  open  at 
the  same  time  ;  the  heap  of  books  and  papers  were  pushed 
away  to  the  other  end  of  the  table,  and  the  great  solitary 
engraving  of  King's  College  Chapel  over  the  mantelpiece 
looked  less  stiff  than  usual,  as  they  settled  themselves  down 
in  the  twilight  to  the  serious  drinking  of  tea. 

After  some  talk  on  the  match,  and  other  indifferent 
subjects,  the  conversation  came  naturally  back  to  Tom's 
approaching  departure,  over  which  he  began  again  to 
make  his  moan. 

'  Well,  we  shall  all  miss  you  quite  as  much  as  you  will 
miss  us,'  said  the  master.  'You  are  the  Nestor  of  the 
School   now,   are  you   not  ? ' 

'Yes,  ever  since  East  left,'  answered  Tom. 

'  By  the  by,  have  you  heard  from  him  ? ' 

'  Yes,  I  had  a  letter  in  February,  just  before  he  started 
for  India  to  join  his -regiment.' 

'  He  will  make  a  capital  officer.' 

'  Aye,  won't  he  !  '  said  Tom,  brightening ;  '  no  fellow 
could  handle  boys  better,  and  I  suppose  soldiers  are  very 
like  boys.  And  he  '11  never  tell  them  to  go  where  he 
won't  go  himself.  No  mistake  about  that  —  a  braver  fellow 
never  walked.' 

'  His  year  in  the  sixth  will  have  taught  him  a  good  deal 
that  will  be  useful  to  him  now.' 

'  So  it  will,'  said  Tom,  staring  into  the  fire.  '  Poor  dear 
Harry,'  he  went  on,  '  how  well  I  remember  the  day  we 
were  put  out  of  the  twenty.    How  he  rose  to  the  situation, 

[39s] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

and  burnt  his  cigar-cases,  and  gave  away  his  pistols,  and 
pondered  on  the  constitutional  authority  of  the  sixth,  and  his 
new  duties  to  the  Doctor,  and  the  fifth  form,  and  the  fags. 
Aye,  and  no  fellow  ever  acted  up  to  them  better,  though  he 
was  always  a  people's  man  —  for  the  fags,  and  against  con- 
stituted authorities.  lie  couldn't  help  that,  you  know.  I'm 
sure  the  Doctor  must  have  liked  him  ^ '  said  Tom,  looking 
up  inquiringly. 

'  The  Doctor  sees  the  good  in  everyone,  and  appreciates 
it,'  said  the  master  dogmatically;  'but  I  hope  East  will  get 
a  good  colonel.  He  won't  do  if  he  can't  respect  those  above 
him.  How  long  it  took  him,  even  here,  to  learn  the  lesson 
of  obeying.' 

'Well,  I  wish  I  were  alongside  of  him,'  said  Tom.  'If 
I  can't  be  at  Rugby,  I  want  to  be  at  work  in  the  world,  and 
not  dawdling  away  three  years  at  Oxford.' 

'  What  do  you  mean  by  "  at  work  in  the  world  "  ? '  said 
the  master,  pausing,  with  his  lips  close  to  his  saucerful  of 
tea,  and  peering  at  Tom  over  it. 

*  Well,  I  mean  real  work  ;  one's  profession  ;  whatever  one 
will  have  really  to  do,  and  make  one's  living  by.  I  want 
to  be  doing  some  real  good,  feeling  that  I  am  not  only  at 
play  in  the  w^orld,'  answered  Tom,  rather  puzzled  to  find 
out  himself  what  he  really  did  mean. 

'  You  are  mixing  up  two  very  different  things  in  your  head, 
I  think.  Brown,'  said  the  master,  putting  down  the  empty 
saucer,  'and  you  ought  to  get  clear  about  them.  You  talk 
of  "  working  to  get  your  living "  and  "  doing  some  real 
good  in  the  world,"  in  the  same  breath.  Now,  you  may  be 
getting  a  very  good  living  in  a  profession,  and  yet  doing  no 
good  at  all  in  the  world,  but  quite  the  contrar)',  at  the  same 

[396] 


WORK    IN    THE   WORLD 

time.  Keep  the  latter  before  you  as  your  one  object,  and 
you  will  be  right,  whether  you  make  a  living  or  not ;  but  if 
you  dwell  on  the  other  you  '11  very  likely  drop  into  mere 
money-making,  and  let  the  world  take  care  of  itself  for  good 
or  evil.  Don't  be  in  a  hurry  about  finding  your  work  in  the 
world  for  yourself  ;  you  are  not  old  enough  to  judge  for 
yourself  yet,  but  just  look  about  you  in  the  place  you  find 
yourself  in,  and  try  to  make  things  a  little  better  and  hon- 
ester  there.  You  '11  find  plenty  to  keep  your  hand  in  at 
Oxford,  or  wherever  else  you  go.  And  don't  be  led  away 
to  think  this  part  of  the  world  important,  and  that  unim- 
portant. Every  corner  of  the  world  is  important.  No  man 
knows  whether  this  part  or  that  is  most  so,  but  every  man 
may  do  some  honest  work  in  his  own  corner.'  And  then 
the  good  man  went  on  to  talk  wisely  to  Tom  of  the  sort  of 
work  which  he  might  take  up  as  an  undergraduate  ;  and 
warned  him  of  the  prevalent  University  sins,  and  explained 
to  him  the  many  and  great  differences  between  University 
and  School  life ;  till  the  twilight  changed  into  darkness, 
and  they  heard  the  .truant  servants  stealing  in  by  the  back 
entrance. 

'  I  wonder  where  Arthur  can  be,'  said  Tom  at  last,  looking 
at  his  watch;  'why,  it's  nearly  half-past  nine  already.' 

*  Oh,  he  is  comfortably  at  .supper  with  the  eleven,  forget- 
ful of  his  oldest  friends,'  said  the  master.  '  Nothing  has 
given  me  greater  pleasure,'  he  went  on,  'than  your  friend- 
ship for  him  ;  it  has  been  the  making  of  you  both.' 

'  Of  me,  at  any  rate,'  answered  Tom  ;  '  I  should  never 
have  been  here  now  but  for  him.  It  was  the  luckiest 
chance  in  the  world  that  sent  him  to  Rugby,  and  made 
him  my  chum.' 

[397] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

'  Why  do  you  talk  of  lucky  chances  ? '  said  the  master ; 
'I  don't  know  that  there  are  any  such  things  in  the  world; 
at  any  rate  there  was  neither  luck  nor  chance  in  that 
matter.' 

Tom  looked  at  him  inquiringly,  and  he  went  on.  *  Do 
you  remember  when  the  Doctor  lectured  you  and  East  at 
the  end  of  one  half-year,  when  you  were  in  the  shell,  and 
had  been  getting  into  all  sorts  of  scrapes  .-' ' 

'Yes,  well  enough,'  said  Tom;  'it  was  the  half-year 
before   Arthur  came.' 

'  Exactly  so,'  answered  the  master.  '  Now,  I  was  with 
him  a  few  minutes  afterwards,  and  he  was  in  great  distress 
about  you  two.  And,  after  some  talk,  we  both  agreed  that 
you  in  particular  wanted  some  object  in  the  School  beyond 
games  and  mischief;  for  it  was  quite  clear  that  you  never 
would  make  the  regular  school  work  your  first  object.  And 
so  the  Doctor,  at  the  beginning  of  the  next  half-year,  looked 
out  the  best  of  the  new  boys,  and  separated  you  and  East, 
and  put  the  young  boy  into  your  study,  in  the  hope  that 
when  you  had  somebody  to  lean  on  you,  you  would  begin 
to  stand  a  little  steadier  yourself,  and  get  manliness  and 
thoughtfulness.  And  I  can  assure  you  he  has  watched  the 
experiment  ever  since  with  great  satisfaction.  Ah  !  not  one 
of  you  boys  will  ever  know  the  anxiety  you  have  given  him, 
or  the  care  with  which  he  has  watched  over  every  step  in 
your  school  lives.' 

Up  to  this  time,  Tom  had  never  wholly  given  in  to,  or 
understood,  the  Doctor.  At  first  he  had  thoroughly  feared 
him.  For  some  years,  as  I  have  tried  to  show,  he  had 
learnt  to  regard  him  with  love  and  respect,  and  to  think 
him  a  very  great  and  wise  and  good  man.    But,  as  regarded 

[398] 


THE    DOCTOR'S    VICTORY 

his  own  position  in  the  Scliool,  of  which  he  was  no  little 
proud,  Tom  had  no  idea  of  giving  any  one  credit  for  it  but 
himself ;  and,  truth  to  tell,  was  a  very  self-conceited  young 
gentleman  on  the  subject.  He  was  wont  to  boast  that  he 
had  fought  his  own  way  fairly  up  the  School,  and  had  never 
made  up  to,  or  been  taken  up  by,  any  big  fellow  or  master, 
and  that  it  was  now  quite  a  different  place  from  what  it 
was  when  he  first  came.  And,  indeed,  though  he  didn't 
actually  boast  of  it,  yet  in  his  secret  soul  he  did  to  a  great 
extent  believe,  that  the  great  reform  in  the  School  had  been 
owing  quite  as  much  to  himself  as  to  any  one  else,  Arthur, 
he  acknowledged,  had  done  him  good,  and  taught  him, a 
good  deal,  so  had  other  boys  in  different  ways,  but  they  had 
not  had  the  same  means  of  influence  on  the  School  in  gen- 
eral ;  and  as  for  the  Doctor,  why,  he  was  a  splendid  master, 
but  every  one  knew  that  masters  could  do  very  little  out  of 
school  hours.  In  short,  he  felt  on  terms  of  equality  with 
his  chief,  so  far  as  the  social  state  of  the  School  was  con- 
cerned, and  thought  that  the  Doctor  would  find  it  no  easy 
matter  to  get  on  without  him.  Moreover,  his  school  Tory- 
ism was  still  strong,  and  he  looked  still  with  some  jealousy 
on  the  Doctor,  as  somewhat  of  a  fanatic  in  the  matter  of 
change  ;  and  thought  it  very  desirable  for  the  School  that 
he  should  have  some  wise  person  (such  as  himself)  to  look 
sharply  after  vested  school  rights,  and  see  that  nothing  was 
done  to  the  injury  of  the  republic  without  due  protest. 

It  was  a  new  light  to  him  to  find  that,  besides  teaching 
the  sixth,  and  governing  and  guiding  the  whole  School, 
editing  classics,  and  writing  histories,  the  great  Headmaster 
had  found  time  in  those  busy  years  to  watch  over  the  career, 
even  of  him,  Tom  Brown,  and  his  particular  friends  —  and, 

[  399  ] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

no  doubt,  of  fifty  other  boys  at  the  same  time ;  and  all 
this  without  taking  the  least  credit  to  himself,  or  seeming 
to  know,  or  let  any  one  else  know,  that  he  ever  thought 
particularly  of  any  boy  at  all. 

However,  the  Doctor's  victory  was  complete  from  that 
moment  over  Tom  Brown,  at  any  rate.  He  gave  way  at  all 
points,  and  the  enemy  marched  right  over  him  —  cavalry, 
infantry,  and  artillery,  the  land  transport  corps,  and  the 
camp-followers.  It  had  taken  eight  long  years  to  do  it,  but 
now  it  was  done  thoroughly,  and  there  was  n't  a  corner  of 
him  left  which  did  n't  believe  in  the  Doctor.  Had  he 
returned  to  School  again,  and  the  Doctor  begun  the  half- 
year  by  abolishing  fagging,  and  football,  and  the  Saturday 
half-holiday,  or  all  or  any  of  the  most  cherished  school 
institutions,  Tom  would  have  supported  him  with  the 
blindest  faith.  And  so,  after  a  half  confession  of  his 
previous  shortcomings,  and  sorrowful  adieus  to  his  tutor, 
from  whom  he  received  two  beautifully  bound  volumes  of 
the  Doctor's  Sermons,  as  a  parting  present,  he  marched 
down  to  the  School-house  a  hero-worshipper,  who  would 
have  satisfied  the  soul  of  Thomas  Carlyle  himself. 

There  he  found  the  eleven  at  high  jinks  after  supper, 
Jack  Raggles  shouting  comic  songs,  and  performing  feats 
of  strength ;  and  was  greeted  by  a  chorus  of  mingled 
remonstrance  at  his  desertion  and  joy  at  his  reappearance. 
And  falling  in  with  the  humour  of  the  evening,  was  soon 
as  great  a  boy  as  all  the  rest ;  and  at  ten  o'clock  was 
chaired  round  the  quadrangle,  on  one  of  the  hall  benches 
borne  aloft  by  the  eleven,  shouting  in  chorus,  '  For  he  's  a 
jolly  good  fellow,'  while  old  Thomas,  in  a  melting  mood, 
and  the  other  School-house  servants,  stood  looking  on. 

[400] 


'FOR    HE'S   A    JOLLY   GOOD    FELLOW 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

And  the  next  morning  after  breakfast  he  squared  up  all 
the  cricketing  accounts,  went  round  to  his  tradesmen  and 
other  acquaintance,  and  said  his  hearty  good-byes  ;  and  by 
twelve  o'clock  was  in  the  train,  and  away  for  London,  no 
longer  a  schoolboy,  and  divided  in  his  thoughts  between 
hero-worship,  honest  regrets  over  the  long  stage  of  his  life 
which  was  now  slipping  out  of  sight  behind  him,  and 
hopes  and  resolves  for  the  next  stage  upon  which  he  was 
entering  with  all  the  confidence  of  a  young  traveller. 


[402] 


*  Strange  friend,  past,  present,  and  to  be  ; 
Loved  deeplier,  darklier  understood ; 
Behold,  I  dream  a  dream  of  good. 
And  mingle  all  the  world  with  thee. ' 

Tennyson 

N  THE  summer  of  1842  our  hero  stopped 
once  again  at  the  well-known  station  :  and, 
leaving  his  bag  and  fishing-rod  with  a  por- 
ter, walked  slowly  and  sadly  up  towards  the 
town.  It  was  now  July.  He  had  rushed 
away  from  Oxford  the  moment  that  term 
was  over,  for  a  fishing  ramble  in  Scotland  with  two  college 
friends,  and  had  been  for  three  weeks  living  on  oat-cake, 
mutton-hams,  and  whisky,  in  the  wildest  parts  of  Skye. 
They  had  descended  one  sultry  evening  on  the  little  inn  at 
Kyle  Rhea  ferry,  and  while  Tom  and  another  of  the  party 
put  their  tackle  together  and  began  exploring  the  stream  foi 

[  403  ] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

a  sea-trout  for  supper,  the  third  strolled  into  the  house  to 
arrange  for  their  entertainment.  Presently  he  came  out  in 
a  loose  blouse  and  slippers,  a  short  pipe  in  his  mouth  and 
an  old  newspaper  in  his  hand,  and  threw  himself  on  the 
heathery  scrub  which  met  the  shingle,  within  easy  hail  of 
the  fishermen.  There  he  lay,  the  picture  of  free-and-easy, 
loafing,  hand-to-mouth  young  England,  'improving  his  mind,' 
as  he  shouted  to  them,  by  the  perusal  of  the  fortnight-old 
weekly  paper,  soiled  with  the  marks  of  toddy-glasses  and 
tobacco-ashes,  the  legacy  of  the  last  traveller,  which  he  had 
hunted  out  from  the  kitchen  of  the  little  hostelry,  and  being 
a  youth  of  a  communicative  turn  of  mind,  began  imparting 
the  contents  to  the  fishermen  as  he  went  on. 

'  What  a  bother  they  are  making  about  these  wretched 
Corn  Laws  !  Here  's  three  or  four  columns  full  of  nothing 
but  sliding-scales  and  fixed  duties,  —  Hang  this  tobacco, 
it's  always  going  out! — Ah,  here's  something  better  —  a 
splendid  match  between  Kent  and  England,  Brown !  Kent 
winning  by  three  wickets.  Felix  fifty-six  runs  without  a 
chance,  and  not  out ! ' 

Tom,  intent  on  a  fish  which  had  risen  at  him  twice, 
answered  only  with  a  grunt. 

*  Anything  about  the  Goodwood  ? '  called  out  the  third 
man. 

'  Rory-o-More  drawn.  Butterfly  colt  amiss,'  shouted  the 
student. 

'Just  my  luck,'  grumbled  the  inquirer,  jerking  his  flies 
off  the  water,  and  throwing  again  with  a  heavy  sullen 
splash,  and  frightening  Tom's  fish. 

'  I  say,  can't  you  throw  lighter  over  there .?  We  ain't 
fishing  for  grampuses,'  shouted  Tom  across  the  stream. 

[  404  ] 


NEWS  OF  THE  DOCTOR'S  DEATH 

'Hullo,  Brown!  here's  something  for  you,'  called  out 
the  reading  man  next  moment.  '  Why,  your  old  master, 
Arnold  of  Rugby,  is  dead.' 

Tom's  hand  stopped  half-way  in  his  cast,  and  his  line 
and  flies  went  all  tangling  round  and  round  his  rod  ;  you 
might  have  knocked  him  over  with  a  feather.  Neither  of 
his  companions  took  any  notice  of  him,  luckily ;  and  with 
a  violent  effort  he  set  to  work  mechanically  to  disentangle 
his  line.  He  felt  completely  carried  off  his  moral  and 
intellectual  legs,  as  if  he  had  lost  his  standing-point  in  the 
invisible  world.  Besides  which,  the  deep  loving  loyalty 
which  he  felt  for  his  old  leader  made  the  shock  intensely 
painful.  It  was  the  first  great  wrench  of  his  life,  the  first 
gap  which  the  angel  Death  had  made  in  his  circle,  and  he 
felt  numbed,  and  beaten  down,  and  spiritless.  Well,  well ! 
I  believe  it  was  good  for  him  and  for  many  others  in  like 
case ;  who  had  to  learn  by  that  loss  that  the  soul  of  man 
cannot  stand  or  lean  upon  any  human  prop,  however 
strong,  and  wise,  and  good ;  but  that  He  upon  whom 
alone  it  can  stand  and  lean  will  knock  away  all  such 
props  in  His  own  wise  and  merciful  way,  until  there  is 
no  ground  or  stay  left  but  Himself,  the  Rock  of  Ages, 
upon  whom  alone  a  sure  foundation  for  every  soul  of  man 
is  laid. 

As  he  wearily  laboured  at  his  line,  the  thought  struck 
him,  *  It  may  all  be  false,  a  mere  newspaper  lie,'  and  he 
strode  up  to  the  recumbent  smoker. 

'  Let  me  look  at  the  paper,'  said  he. 

*  Nothing  else  in  it,'  answered  the  other,  handing  it  up 
to  him  listlessly.  — '  Hullo,  Brown  !  what 's  the  matter,  old 
fellow  —  ain't  you  well  ? ' 

[  405  ] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

'  Where  is  it  ? '  said  Tom,  turning  over  the  leaves,  his 
hands  trembling  and  his  eyes  swimming,  so  that  he  could 
not  read. 

'  What  ?  What  are  you  looking  for  ? '  said  his  friend, 
jumping  up  and  looking  over  his  shoulder. 

'That  —  about  Arnold,'  said  Tom. 

'Oh,  here,'  said  the  other,  putting  his  finger  on  the 
paragraph.  Tom  read  it  over  and  over  again  ;  there  could 
be  no  mistake  of  identity,  though  the  account  was  short 
enough, 

'Thank  you,'  said  he  at  last,  dropping  the  paper.  'I 
shall  go  for  a  walk  :  don't  you  and  Herbert  wait  supper  for 
me.'  And  away  he  strode,  up  over  the  moor  at  the  back 
of  the  house,  to  be  alone,  and  master  his  grief  if  possible. 

His  friend  looked  after  him,  sympathizing  and  wonder- 
ing, and,  knocking  the  ashes  out  of  his  pipe,  walked  over 
to  Herbert.  After  a  short  parley,  they  walked  together  up 
to  the  house. 

'  I'm  afraid  that  confounded  newspaper  has  spoiled 
Brown's   fun   for  this   trip.' 

'  How  odd  that  he  should  be  so  fond  of  his  old  master,' 
said  Herbert.    Yet  they  also  were  both  public-school  men. 

The  two,  however,  notwithstanding  Tom's  prohibition, 
waited  supper  for  him,  and  had  ever)^thing  ready  when  he 
came  back  some  half  an  hour  afterwards.  But  he  could 
not  join  in  their  cheerful  talk,  and  the  party  was  soon 
silent,  notwithstanding  the  efforts  of  all  three.  One  thing 
only  had  Tom  resolved,  and  that  was,  that  he  could  n't 
stay  in  Scotland  any  longer ;  he  felt  an  irresistible  longing 
to  get  to  Rugby,  and  then  home,  and  soon  broke  it  to  the 
others,  who  had  too  much  tact  to  oppose. 

[406] 


TOM    AGAIN    AT    RUGBY 

So  by  daylight  the  next  morning  he  was  marching 
through  Ross-shire,  and  in  the  evening  hit  the  Caledonian 
Canal,  took  the  next  steamer,  and  travelled  as  fast  as  boat 
and  railway  could  carry  him  to  the  Rugby  station. 

As  he  walked  up  to  the  town,  he  felt  shy  and  afraid  of 
being  seen,  and  took  the  back  streets ;  why,  he  did  n't  know, 
but  he  followed  his  instinct.  At  the  School-gates  he  made  a 
dead  pause;  there  was  not  a  soul  in  the  quadrangle  —  all  was 
lonely,  and  silent,  and  sad.  So  with  another  effort  he  strode 
through  the  quadrangle,  and  into  the  School-house  offices. 

He  found  the  little  matron  in  her  room  in  deep  mourn- 
ing ;  shook  her  hand,  tried  to  talk,  and  moved  nervously 
about :  she  was  evidently  thinking  of  the  same  subject  as 
he,  but  he  could  n't  begin  talking. 

'  Where  shall  I  find  Thomas  ?  '  said  he  at  last,  getting 
desperate. 

'  In  the  servants'  hall,  I  think,  sir.  But  won't  you  take 
anything  ? '  said  the  matron,  looking  rather  disappointed. 

'  No,  thank  you,'  said  he,  and  strode  off  again  to  find  the 
old  Verger,  who  was  sitting  in  his  little  den  as  of  old, 
puzzling  over  hieroglyphics. 

He  looked  up  through  his  spectacles,  as  Tom  seized  his 
hand  and  wrung  it. 

'Ah!  you've  heard  all  about  it,  sir,  I  see,'  said  he. 

Tom  nodded,  and  then  sat  down  on  the  shoe-board,  while 
the  old  man  told  his  tale,  and  wiped  his  spectacles,  and 
fairly  flowed  over  with  quaint,  homely,  honest  sorrow. 

By  the  time  he  had  done,  Tom  felt  much  better. 

'  Where  is  he  buried,  Thomas  .?  '  said  he  at  last. 

'  Under  the  altar  in  the  chapel,  sir,'  answered  Thomas. 
'  You  'd  like  to  have  the  key,  I  dare  say.' 

[  407  ] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

'Thank  you,  Thomas.  Yes,  I  should  very  much.'  And 
the  old  man  fumbled  among  his  bunch,  and  then  got  up, 
as  though  he  would  go  with  him  ;  but  after  a  few  steps 
stopped  short,  and  said,  *  Perhaps  you  'd  like  to  go  by  your- 
self, sir  ? ' 

Tom  nodded,  and  the  bunch  of  keys  were  handed  to 
him,  with  an  injunction  to  be  sure  and  lock  the  door  after 
him,  and  bring  them  back  before  eight  o'clock. 

He  walked  quickly  through  the  quadrangle  and  out  into 
the  close.  The  longing  which  had  been  upon  him  and 
driven  him  thus  far,  like  the  gadfly  in  the  Greek  legends, 
giving  him  no  rest  in  mind  or  body,  seemed  all  of  a  sudden 
not  to  be  satisfied,  but  to  shrivel  up,  and  pall.  '  Why  should 
I  go  on?  It's  no  use,'  he  thought,  and  threw  himself  at 
full  length  on  the  turf,  and  looked  vaguely  and  listlessly  at 
all  the  well-known  objects.  There  were  a  few  of  the  town 
boys  playing  cricket,  their  wicket  pitched  on  the  best  piece 
in  the  middle  of  the  big-side  ground  :  a  sin  about  equal  to 
sacrilege  in  the  eyes  of  a  captain  of  the  eleven.  He  was 
ver)'  nearly  getting  up  to  go  and  send  them  off.  '  Pshaw ! 
they  won't  remember  me.  They've  more  right  there  than 
I,'  he  muttered.  And  the  thought  that  his  sceptre  had  de- 
parted, and  his  mark  w^as  wearing  out,  came  home  to  him 
for  the  first  time,  and  bitterly  enough.  He  was  lying  on  the 
very  spot  where  the  fights  came  off ;  where  he  himself  had 
fought  six  years  ago  his  first  and  last  battle.  He  conjured 
up  the  scene  till  he  could  almost  hear  the  shouts  of  the 
ring,  and  East's  whisper  in  his  ear ;  and  looking  across  the 
close  to  the  Doctor's  private  door,  half  expected  to  see  it 
open,  and  the  tall  figure  in  cap  and  gown  come  striding 
under  the  elm-trees  towards  him. 

[408] 


I 


IN    THE    CHAPEL 


,y/i 


No,  no  !  that  sight  could  never  be  seen  again.  There 
was  no  flag  flying  on  the  round  tower ;  the  School-house 
windows  were  all  shuttered  up  :  and  when  the  flag  went  up 
again  and  the  shut- 
ters came  down,  it 
would  be  to  welcome 
a  stranger.  All  that 
was  left  on  earth  of 
him  whom  he  had 
honoured  was  lying 
cold  and  still  under 
the  chapel  floor. 
He  would  go  in  and 
see  the  place  once 
more,  and  then 
leave  it  once  for  all. 
New  men  and  new 
methods  might  do 
for  other  people ;  let 
those  who  would,  ■ 
worship  the  rising 
star ;  he  at  least 
would  be  faithful  to 
the  sun  which  had 
set.  And  so  he  got 
up,  and  walked  to 
the  chapel  door  and  unlocked  it,  fancying  himself  the  only 
mourner  in  all  the  broad  land,  and  feeding  on  his  own 
selfish  sorrow. 

He  passed  through  the  vestibule,  and  then  paused  for  a 
moment  to  glance  over  the  empty  benches.    His  heart  was 

[  409  ] 


THE  TURRET   DOOR   ENTRANCE 

TO  THE  DOCTOR'S  HOUSE  FROM 

THE  CLOSE 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

still  proud  and  high,  and  he  walked  up  to  the  seat  which 
he  had  last  occupied  as  a  sixth-form  boy,  and  sat  himself 
down  there  to  collect  his  thoughts. 

And,  truth  to  tell,  they  needed  collecting  and  setting  in 
order  not  a  litde.  The  memories  of  eight  years  were  all 
dancing  through  his  brain,  and  carr^'ing  him  about  whither 
they  would  ;  while  beneath  them  all,  his  heart  was  throb- 
bing with  the  dull  sense  of  a  loss  that  could  never  be  made 
up  to  him.  The  rays  of  the  evening  sun  came  solemnly 
through  the  painted  windows  above  his  head,  and  fell  in 
gorgeous  colours  on  the  opposite  wall,  and  the  perfect  still- 
ness soothed  his  spirit  by  litde  and  litde.  And  he  turned 
to  the  pulpit,  and  looked  at  it,  and  then,  leaning  forward 
with  his  head  on  his  hands,  groaned  aloud.  If  he  could 
only  have  seen  the  Doctor  again  for  one  five  minutes  ;  have 
told  him  all  that  was  in  his  heart,  what  he  owed  to  him, 
how  he  loved  and  reverenced  him,  and  would  by  God's  help 
follow  his  steps  in  life  and  death,  he  could  have  borne  it  all 
without  a  murmur.  But  that  he  should  have  gone  away  for 
ever  without  knowing  it  all  was  too  much  to  bear.  —  'But 
am  I  sure  that  he  does  not  know  it  all  ? '  —  the  thought 
made  him  start  —  *  May  he  not  even  now  be  near  me,  in 
this  very  chapel .''  If  he  be,  am  I  sorrowing  as  he  would 
have  me  sorrow  —  as  I  should  wish  to  have  sorrowed  when 
I  shall  meet  him  again  ? ' 

He  raised  himself  up  and  looked  round,  and  after  a  min- 
ute rose  and  walked  humbly  down  to  the  lowest  bench,  and 
sat  down  on  the  very  seat  which  he  had  occupied  on  his 
first  Sunday  at  Rugby.  And  then  the  old  memories  rushed 
back  again,  but  softened  and  subdued,  and  soothing  him  as 
he  let  himself  be  carried  away  by  them.    And  he  looked  up 

[410] 


FINIS 

at  the  great  painted  window  above  the  altar,  and  remem- 
bered how  when  a  Httle  boy  he  used  to  try  not  to  look 
through  it  at  the  elm-trees  and  the  rooks,  before  the 
painted  glass  came  —  and  the  subscription  for  the  painted 
glass,  and  the  letter  he  wrote  home  for  money  to  give  to 
it.  And  there,  down  below,  was  the  very  name  of  the  boy 
who  sat  on  his  right  hand  on  that  first  day,  scratched  rudely 
in  the  oak  panelling. 

And  then  came  the  thought  of  all  his  old  school-fellows  ; 
and  form  after  form  of  boys,  nobler,  and  braver,  and  purer 
than  he,  rose  up  and  seemed  to  rebuke  him.  Could  he  not 
think  of  them,  and  what  they  had  felt  and  were  feeling, 
they  who  had  honoured  and  loved  from  the  first  the  man 
whom  he  had  taken  years  to  know  and  love  ?  Could  he  not 
think  of  those  yet  dearer  to  him  who  was  gone,  who  bore  his 
name  and  shared  his  blood,  and  were  now  without  a  husband 
or  a  father  ?  Then  the  grief  which  he  began  to  share  with 
others  became  gentle  and  holy,  and  he  rose  up  once  more, 
and  walked  up  the  steps  to  the  altar ;  and  while  the  tears 
flowed  freely  down  his  cheeks,  knelt  down  humbly  and  hope- 
fully, to  lay  down  there  his  share  of  a  burden  which  had 
proved  itself  too  heavy  for  him  to  bear  in  his  own  strength. 

Here  let  us  leave  him  —  where  better  could  we  leave  him 
than  at  the  altar,  before  which  he  had  first  caught  a  glimpse 
of  the  glory  of  his  birthright,  and  felt  the  drawing  of  the 
bond  which  links  all  living  souls  together  in  one  brother- 
hood —  at  the  grave  beneath  the  altar  of  him  who  had 
opened  his  eyes  to  see  that  glory,  and  softened  his  heart 
till  it  could  feel  that  bond  ? 

And  let  us  not  be  hard  on  him,  if  at  that  moment  his 
soul  is  fuller  of  the  tomb  and  him  who  lies  there  than  of 

'     [411] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL- DAYS 

the  altar  and  Him  of  whom  it  speaks.  Such  stages  have  to 
be  gone  through,  I  beheve,  by  all  young  and  brave  souls, 
who  must  win  their  way  through  hero-worship,  to  the  wor- 
ship of  Him  who  is  the  King  and  Lord  of  heroes.  For  it 
is  only  through  our  mysterious  human  relationships,  through 
the  love  and  tenderness  and  purity  of  mothers,  and  sisters, 
and  wives,  through  the  strength  and  courage  and  wisdom 
of  fathers,  and  brothers,  and  teachers,  that  we  can  come 
to  the  knowledge  of  Him,  in  whom  alone  the  love,  and 
the  tenderness,  and  the  purity,  and  the  strength,  and  the 
courage,  and  the  wisdom  of  all  these  dwell  for  ever  and 
ever  in  perfect  fullness. 

THE  END 


[412] 


NOTES 

PART  I 

CHAPTER  I 

Page  3.  The  Browns  have  become  illtistno7is  etc. :  the  allusion  is 
to  a  series  of  letters  signed  '  Dr.  Brown,'  which  Thackeray  wrote 
for  Punch,  the  famous  comic  paper,  in  1 849.  They  were  illustrated 
by  Richard  Doyle,  whose  best-known  work  is  the  outside  cover  of 
Punch. 
Page  4.  yeomen'' s  work :  a  proverbial  expression  for  hard  work.  The 
yeomen,  or  small  landholders,  formed  the  backbone  of  English 
armies  in  mediaeval  times. 

yew  bow :  the  yew  afforded  one  of  the  best  ^kinds  of  wood  for 
making  bows.  This  is  said  to  be  one  of  the  reasons  why  it  was 
so  commonly  planted  by  our  ancestors  in  churchyards. 

cloth-yard :  an  old  measure  for  cloth,  which  became  the  statute 
yard  of  thirty-six  inches. 

Cressy  (1346)  and  Agincourt  (141 5):  two  of  the  most  famous 
battles  in  the  Hundred  Years'  War  between  England  and  France. 

brown  bill  and  pike :  a  bill  was  a  kind  of  halberd,  a  pole  about 
five  feet  long,  with  a  steel  head  consisting  of  a  broad  blade  with  a 
projecting  hook,  like  a  bird's  bill ;  it  was  called  a  black  bill  or  a 
brown  bill.    A  pike  is  a  pole  with  a  narrow  lance-head. 

Lord  Willoughby :  a  soldier  in  the  time  of  Queen  Elizabeth.  He 
fought  in  the  Netherlands  (died  1 601)  and  is  the  hero  of  an  old  ballad 
about 'brave  Lord  Willoughby.' 

culvertn  and  demi-culveriti :  two  kinds  of  cannon  used  in  the 
sixteenth  century. 

Rodney :  a  great  admiral  who  defeated  the  French  fleet  off  the 
West  Indies  in  1 782. 

St.  Vinceftt :  John  Jervis,  Earl  St.  Vincent,  took  his  title  from  a 
victory  over  the  French  off  Cape  St.  Vincent  in  Portugal,  in  1797. 

[413] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

Wolfe :  an  English  general ;  he  took  Quebec  from  the  French 
in   1759. 

Moore :  Sir  John  Moore  commanded  an  army  in  Spain,  which 
retreated  before  very  superior  forces  and  embarked  safely  after  a 
battle  at  Corunna  in  which  Moore  was  killed.  '  The  Burial  of 
Sir  John  Moore '  is  one  of  the  best-known  of  English  poems. 

Nelson  and  Wellitigtoii  :  the  great  heroes,  on  sea  and  land 
respectively,  of  the  war  against  Napoleon. 

St.  Maurs :  'St.  Maur'  is  another  way  of  spelling  the  name 
'  Seymour.'  The  head  of  the  St.  Maur  family  is  the  Duke  of 
Somerset ;  of  the  Stanleys,  the  Earl  of  Derby ;  of  the  Talbots,  the 
Earl  of  Shrewsbury. 

sacer  vales :  an  allusion  to  Horace,  Odes,  IV,  ix,  25,  where  he 
says  that  there  were  many  heroes  before  Agamemnon  whose  fame 
is  unknown  '  carent  quia  vate  sacro,'  '  because  they  have  no  sacred 
bard '  to  sing  of  their  great  deeds. 
Page  5.  throw  his  stone  on  to  the  pile :  apparently  an  allusion  to  the 
custom  amongst  mountaineers  of  building  a  cairn,  or  pile  of  stones, 
on  the  top  of  a  mountain  summit,  to  show  that  it  has  been  visited ; 
each  successive  climber  adds  his  stone. 

no  lumber :  no  useless  flesh.  The  Lombards  were  the  bankers 
and  pawnbrokers  of  the  Middle  Ages ;  hence  'lumber'  came  to  mean 
things  given  in  pledge,  then  out-of-date  pledges  and  rubbish  of  any  sort. 

as  bad  as  Highlanders :  the  Highland  clans,  such  as  the  Camp- 
bells and  the  MacGregors,  used  to  be  very  closely  knit  in  feeling 
against  all  rivals. 
Page  6.    chambers :  rooms  in  the  various  Inns  of  Court,  which  belong 
to  societies  of  lawyers,  are  called  '  chambers.' 

quixotic :  romantically  eager  to  redress  wrongs,  like  Don  Quixote. 

crotchet :  a  fanciful  idea. 

the  treadmill :  a  machine  formerly  used  in  prisons  by  criminals 
condemned  to  '  hard  labour ' ;  it  is  a  wheel  which  is  made  to  revolve 
by  some  one  walking  on  steps  set  in  its  circumference. 

the  workhouse :  workhouses  are  institutions  in  which,  under  the 
Poor  Law  of  1834,  the  destitute  are  provided  for,  and  in  return  are 
obliged  to  do  work  if  they  are  able-bodied. 
Page  7.    Royal  county  of  Berks  :  '  royal '  because  Windsor  Castle,  the 
most  ancient  royal  residence,  is  situated  in  it. 

[414] 


NOTES 

chalk  hills :  low  rounded  hills  of  chalk  covered  with  grass  are 
a  very  familiar  feature  in  the  south  of  England. 

the  Farringdon-road  station  :  no  longer  so  called.  '  The  '  before 
the  name  of  a  station  is  no  longer  used  ;  when  the  book  was  written, 
railways  were  still  a  novelty. 
Page  8.  a  Great  Exhibition :  the  first  of  its  kind  was  held  in  1851 
in  the  Crystal  Palace,  which  had  been  erected  for  the  purpose  in 
Hyde  Park.  The  Crystal  Palace  was  afterwards  moved  to  its  present 
position  on  the  southern  edge  of  London. 

three  pound  ten  :  in  English  coinage  twelve  pence  make  one  shil- 
ling, twenty  shillings  one  pound.  A  shilling  equals  about  twenty-four 
cents.  I  think  the  author  must  be  exaggerating  the  cheapness  of 
railway  travelling  in  his  time. 

holidays :  a  school  and  general  word ;  '  vacation  '  is  used  at  the 
universities  and  law  courts. 

Mudie's  library :  the  first  great  circulating  library,  founded  in  1 842. 

sour  krout :  sauer-kraut,  a  favorite  German  dish  consisting  of 
cabbage  pickled  in  a  particular  way. 

bog-bean  :  also  called  buck-bean,  or  marsh  trefoil.  An  infusion  of 
the  leaves  is  sometimes  given  as  a  cure  for  dropsy  and  rheumatism, 
but  the  author  is  probably  alluding  to  its  use  and  that  of  wood-sage 
as  a  substitute  for  hops  in  brewing. 

the  civil  wars :  between  King  Charles  I  and  the  Parliament, 
1 642- 1 649. 

the  parish  butts :  England  has  been  divided  since  very  early  times 
into  small  districts  called  parishes,  each  having  its  church  and  clergy- 
man and  some  local  government.  The  butts  were  the  ground  used 
for  archery  practice ;  the  word  is  used  now  of  rifle-practice  ground. 
Page  9.  Dulce  domum:  a  Winchester  song  celebrating  the  delights 
of  going  home ;  it  was  formerly  used  at  Rugby  too,  but  has  for 
many  years  been  replaced  by  the  school  song  '  Floreat  Rugbeia.' 

black  Monday :  the  first  day  of  term  (no  longer  Monday,  but 
Friday).  The  original  'black  Monday'  was  Easter  Monday,  1360, 
when  an  English  army  besieging  Paris  suffered  terribly  from  a 
bitter  storm. 

back-sword  play  :  see  page  39. 

ox-fences :  strong  fences  consisting  of  a  ditch,  hedge,  and 
railing. 

[415] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

gorse :  a  prickly  evergreen  shrub  with  a  brilliant  yellow  flower, 
very  common  on  uncultivated  land  in  England.  'A  gorse'  here 
means  a  large  clump  of  gorse. 

spinney  :  a  small  wood. 

poor  Charley :  the  fox.  It  is  not  a  common  name,  and  the  only 
other  reference  quoted  in  the  dictionaries  is  from  a  book  of  the  same 
period  as  '  Tom  Brown.' 

the  Old  Berkshire :  a  pack  of  hounds. 

plough-land,  woods :  partridges  are  shot  among  the  stubble  after 
the  crops  have  been  cut;  pheasants,  in  woods.  'Hunting'  always 
means  fox-hunting. 
Page  id.  We  are  born  in  a  vale :  '  "  He  was  born  into  a  wale,"  said 
Mrs.  Gamp,  with  philosophical  coolness;  "and  he  lived  in  a  wale; 
and  he  must  take  the  consequences  of  sech  a  sitiwation  " '  (Martin 
Chuzzlewit,  chap.  xlix).  Hughes  shows  what  would  now  be  a  very 
unusual  ignorance  of  Dickens. 
Page  ii.  a  tnagnijiceni  Roman  camp:  this  is  the  great  earthwork 
of  Uffington,  700  feet  by  500  feet,  overlooking  the  valley  of  the 
White  Horse.  Such  earthworks  are  fairly  common  in  England,  and 
are  usually  ascribed  to  the  Romans ;  but  many  of  them,  including 
this  one  at  Uffington,  are  probably  of  early  British  origin. 

Sappers  and  Miners :  from  18 13  to  1856,  what  are  now  the  Royal 
Engineers  were  called  the  Royal  Sappers  and  Miners,  the  title 
'  Corps  of  Royal  Engineers '  being  given  only  to  their  officers. 

Ordnance  Map :  a  map  produced  by  the  Ordnance  Survey,  the 
official  survev  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland,  carried  out  by  the  Royal 
Engineers  assisted  by  civilians. 

the  Ridgeway :    part  of  the   Icknield  Way,  a  Celtic  and  after- 
wards Roman  road  running  east  and  west. 
Page  12.    the   battle  of  Ashdown :    fought  in  871;  the  site  of  the 
battle  is  a  disputed  point. 

the  chroniclers :  the  monks  who  wrote  the  chronicles  of  early 
English  kings. 

old  Asser:  a  monk  of  St.  Davids  in  Wales,  afterwards  Bishop  of 
Sherborne,  who  wrote  a  history  of  King  Alfred. 

the  Alma  :  a  little  river  in  the  Crimea,  in  Russia,  where  the  first 
battle  in  the  Crimean  W'ar  was  fought,  in  1853.  It  was  a  recent 
event  when  this  book  was  written. 

[416] 


NOTES 

Page  13.  the  great  Saxon  white  horse :  this  is  the  figure  of  a  horse, 
374  feet  long,  with  its  outline  marked  by  trenches  ten  feet  wide  and 
two  or  three  feet  deep,  cut  in  the  turf  down  to  the  white  chalk  subsoil. 
Tradition  says  that  it  was  carved  by  King  Alfred  to  commemorate 
his  victory  at  Ashdown,  but  many  authorities  think  it  is  earlier. 

the  Dragon'' s  Hill :  it  has  been  suggested  that  the  original  name 
was  '  Pendragon,'  which  is  Celtic  for  '  chief  of  kings,'  and  that  the 
story  of  the  slaughter  of  the  dragon  arose  when  the  old  name  had 
become  abbreviated  and  its  significance  forgotten. 

St.  George  :  the  patron  saint  of  England. 
Page  14.    keeper :  the  gamekeeper,  a  man  employed  by  a  landowner  to 
prevent  unlawful  hunting,  fishing,  or  trapping  on  his  land. 

cromlech :  these  prehistoric  erections,  which  are  found  throughout 
the  Celtic  area  in  Great  Britain,  are  probably  sepulchral  monuments. 

Way  land  Smith's  cave:  Wayland  the  Smith  is  Vaolund,  the 
metal-worker  amongst  the  gods  in  Northern  mythology.  This  crom- 
lech was  known  as  '  Welland's  Smithy '  as  far  back  as  a.d.  955. 

In igo  Jones  :  a  famous  architect  (1573-1652). 

barrows :  mounds  of  earth  piled  up  over  the  remains  of  the  dead. 

Page  15.  printer's  devil :  printer's  errand-boy.   The  word  is  also  used 

amongst  barristers  :  to  devil  for  a  barrister  is  to  get  up  a  case  for  him. 

public  :  public  house,  inn. 

the  Blowing  Stone :  the  stone  is  still  there  at  Kingstone  Lisle, 
but  the  house  is  no  longer  an  inn. 

Toby  Philpot  jug :  a  jug  made  in  the  shape  of  a  stout  man  in 
a  long  coat,  knee  breeches,  and  three-cornered  hat,  seated.  It  is 
also  called  an  Uncle  Toby. 

un  :  him,  for  '  it' 
Page  16.    Utn:  them,  for  'they.' 

the  Jiery  cross :  a  wooden  cross,  charred  and  dipped  in  blood, 
which  was  sent  round  among  the  Highland  clans  to  summon  them 
to  war.   It  is  described  in  Scott's  '  Lady  of  the  Lake,'  Canto  III. 

plantations :  small  woods  of  trees  planted  by  hand. 
Page  18.    tnalignant :  the  Cavaliers,  who  supported  Charles  I  in  the 
Civil  War,  were  called  '  malignants  '  by  their  opponents. 

Thomas  Ingoldsby :  the  pseudonym  under  which  Barham  wrote 
the  '  Ingoldsby  Legends,'  humorous  stories  in  verse,  which  were 
very  popular  in  Victorian  times. 

[417] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

the  Pusey  horn  :  a  mounted  ox-horn  which  tradition  says  was 
given  as  a  token  of  tenure  by  King  Canute,  the  Danish  king  who 
ruled  from  1014  to  1035. 

the  old  moated  grange  at  Compton  :  '  grange  '  originally  meant  a 
bam,  but  was  applied  to  country  houses  with  farm  buildings  attached ; 
in  early  times  these  were  often  protected  by  a  moat,  or  wide  ditch. 

Marianas :   alluding  to  Tennyson's  '  Mariana,'  which  is  founded 
on  a  phrase  in  Shakespeare's  '  Measure  for  Measure,'  III,  i,  277. 
Page  19.    Wessex :  the  land  of  the  West  Saxons,  one  of  the  kingdoms 
into  which  early  England  was  divided. 

adsctiptus  glebae :  '  bound  to  the  soil ' ;  in  feudal  times  the  serfs 
were  part  of  the  estate,  which  they  were  not  allowed  to  leave. 

chaw :  that  is,  chaw-bacon  (rustic). 

Gaarge  R idler:  the  hero  of  the  song  which  he  proceeds  to  quote. 

Squire  Brown,  J.  P. :  '  Squire '  is  a  name  popularly  given  to 
a  country  landowner.  'J.  P.'  stands  for  'Justice  of  the  Peace,'  a 
magistrate  utio  tries  minor  legal  cases  at  '  the  Petty  Sessions '  in 
company  with  his  fellow  magistrates,  who  form  'the  Bench.' 

stnock  frocks :  a  smock  frock  is  a  garment  of  coarse  stuff,  made 
like  a  long  shirt  with  sleeves,  which  farm  labourers  used  commonly  to 
wear  over  their  other  clothes,  though  it  is  very  rarely  seen  nowadays. 
It  was  often  ornamented  over  the  chest  and  back  by  little  pleats, 
or  folds,  gathered  in  and  held  together  by  a  stitching  in  elaborate 
patterns,  a  form  of  work  to  which  the  smock  has  given  its  name. 

coal  and  clothes  clubs :  clubs  in  which  the  members  pay  small 
weekly  contributions  and  receive  the  value  in  coal  or  clothes  at 
the  end  of  the  year. 

tnummers :  men  who  go  from  house  to  house  at  Christmas 
in  fantastic  costumes  and  perform  a  kind  of  play.  The  custom 
survived  in  a  few  country  districts  till  recent  times. 

vernacular :  dialect,  everyday  speech  of  a  district. 

the  ten-pound  doctor :  one  of  the  characters  in  the  mummers' 
play,  so  called  because  in  the  play  his  fee  was  ten  pounds. 

mysteries :  mysteries,  or  miracle  plays,  were  a  kind  of  drama 
in  mediaeval  times.  The  characters  and  events  were  taken  from 
religious  subjects.  —  for  example,  the  Chester  Mysteries  of  1327  con- 
tained '  The  Fall  of  Lucifer,'  acted  by  the  Tanners ;  '  The  Creation,' 
by  the  Drapers ;  '  The  Last  Supper,'  by  the  Bakers ;  etc. 

[418] 


NOTES 

Page  20.    lieges  :  subjects. 

Assizes :  sittings  held  by  judges  who  go  round  in  circuit  to 
various  important  towns  to  try  important  cases. 

Quarter  Sessions :  sittings  of  the  county  court,  in  which  county- 
court  judges  try  minor  cases. 

yeomanry :   a  force  of  volunteer  cavalry,  first  embodied  in  the 
wars  of  the  French  Revolution,  and  still  forming  the  cavalry  of  the 
territorial  organization. 
Page  21 .    don  :  a  name  given  to  fellows  of  a  college  at  the  Universities; 

derived  from  the  Latin  dominus. 
Page  22.     The   Queen  sets    us   the  exatnple :    Queen  Victoria  used 
frequently  to  go  to  Balmoral,  in  Scotland. 

takes  his  juontJi's  hop-picking :  every  autumn  there  is  a  great 
exodus  of  poor  people  from  London  to  help  in  the  hop-harvest  in 
Kent. 

ijttperials :  outside  seats  on  a  coach  or  diligence.  The  word 
has  died  out  in  English,  but  the  outside  of  an  omnibus  or  tram-car 
in  French  is  still  V imperial. 

are  an  abomination  unto  me  —  /  cannot  away  with  them:  a 
Biblical  expression  from  Isaiah  (i,  13). 

Co7nme  le  lima^on  .  .  .  maison  :  '  like  the  snail,  who  carries 
about  all  his  baggage  and  his  furniture  and  his  house.' 

holus-bolus :  an  obsolete  mock-Latin  slang  phrase  which  the 
Dictionary  of  Slang  asserts  to  be  a  nautical  phrase,  meaning  '  helter- 
skelter  ' ;  here  it  means  '  without  picking  and  choosing.' 

CHAPTER  II 

Page  23.  poet:  Wordsworth. 

Page  25.    cardinal  and  other:    the  cardinal  virtues  are   Prudence, 

Justice,  Fortitude,  and  Temperance,  but  only  the  first  is  used  as  a 

Christian  name.     Faith,  Hope,  and  Charity,  the  remaining  three  of 

the  '  Seven  Principal  Virtues,'  are  so  used. 

drink  whey :  whey  is  the  watery  part  of  milk  when  separated 

from  the  curds  (the  thicker  part  from  which  cheese  is  made). 
Page  26.  pattens :  a  thick  wooden  sole  on  a  framework,  worn  to  keep 

the  feet  out  of  the  wet.    They  are  not  used  now,  but  wooden  clogs 

are  commonly  worn  in  Lancashire. 

[419] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

bist :  be'st  thou,  =  art  thou. 
muck  reservoir:  manure  heap. 

hankering  about :  lingering  about  (for  something  desirable). 
pillion :  a  cushion  on  which  a  woman  rode  behind  a  man  on 
horseback. 
Page  28.  turnpike-roads :  roads  used  to  be  kept  in  repair  by  tolls, 
which  were  collected  at  turnpike-gates  set  across  the  road.  They 
were  gradually  abolished  in  the  nineteenth  century.  Turnpike-roads 
were  among  the  first  roads  to  be  paved  properly  for  carriages. 

full-bottomed  wig:  a  wig  with  long  flaps  coming  down  to  the 
shoulders. 

popjoying :  a  disused  word  of  uncertain  origin.    Murray's  Dic- 
tionary says  it  means  '  to  enjoy  oneself,'  but  the  only  other  passage 
quoted  besides  this  one  also  refers  to  fishing ;  it  is  from  a  book  of 
H.  Kingsley,  published  about  the  same  period  as  '  Tom  Brown.' 
Page  30.    /'etty  Sessions :  see  note  on  Squire  Brown,/.  P.  (p.  418). 
t/ie  wars :  of  the  American  Revolution  or  the  French  Revolution. 
single-sticks :  an  ash  stick  with  a  basket  hilt,  so  called  because  it 
was  used  with   one  hand,  while  the  quarterstaff,  another  favorite 
weapon,  was  much  larger  and  was  wielded  by  both  hands. 
Page   31.    a  good  wrestler  at   elbow  and  collar:    elbow-and-coUar 
wrestling  is  a  style  in  which  each  wrestler  catches  his  opponent's 
elbow  in  one  hand  and  collar  in  the  other,  and  is  not  allowed  to  let 
go  before  the  bout  is  finished. 

statute  feasts :  many  towns  in  England  were  authorized  by  law 
to  hold  fairs;  these  fairs  really  originated  in  the  dedication  festivals 
of  which  the  author  speaks,  but  they  were  called  statute  fairs  in 
distinction  from  those  authorized  only  by  use  or  custom.  Feast  day 
is  still  celebrated  in  many  English  villages. 
Page  32.    the  7'illage :  the  description  (which  still  holds  good  in  almost 

all  particulars)  is  that  of  UfRngton,  where  Hughes  was  born. 
Page  33.    lancet  windows:   narrow  pointed  windows,   shaped  like  a 
lancet,  characteristic  of  Early  English  architecture. 
cheap  facks :  men  who  travel  about  selling  things. 
fairings :  things  that  are  sold  at  a  fair.    See  page  35, 
Page  34.    buckskins  :  leather  breeches. 

top-boots :  boots  with  high  tops,  used  for  riding. 
fustian  :  a  kind  of  coarse  twilled  cloth. 

[420] 


NOTES 

look  purely :    look   wonderfully   well ;    a    provincial    expression. 
'  Purely  '  means  '  very.' 
Page  35.  gossip  :  an  old  word  for  an  intimate  friend. 

Martinmas  :  the  feast  of  St.  Martin,  November  1 1,  was  a  popu- 
lar feast  in  old  days.    Beef  salted  down  for  the  winter  used  to  be 
called  Martinmas  beef. 
Page  36.    tuppence  :  twopence,  the  price  of  entry  to  the  show. 

muzzling  in  a  flour-tub :  trying  to  take  some  small  object  out  of 
a  tub  of  flour  with  the  mouth. 
Page  39.    castor :   properly,  a  hat  made  from  the  fur  of  a  castor,  or 
beaver ;  the  word  is  also  used,  as  here,  of  the  tall  silk  hat,  or  '  top- 
hat,'  which  is  derived  from  it. 
Page  40.    drab  breeclies :  breeches  of  a  thick  brownish  cloth. 
Page  42.    tiuod :   a  dialect  word  for  'toad.'    He  means,   'I  have  as 

much  money  as  a  toad  has  feathers.' 
Page  43.    shovel :  a  shovel  hat;  that  is,  a  hat  with  a  broad  brim  turned 
up  at  the  sides  and  projecting  in  front  like  a  shovel.    It  is  only  worn 
now  by  dignitaries  of  the  Church  of  England. 
wosbird :  an  obsolete  term  of  abuse. 

Sir  Roger  de  Coverley :    the  hero  of  Addison's  famous  papers 
in  the  Spectator. 
Page  44.    Shaw  the  Life-guardsman :   a  real  '  old  gamester,'  a  Wilt- 
shire man  who  won  a  prize  for  back-swording  at  the  Scouring  of  the 
White  Horse  in  1 808.    He  was  killed  at  Waterloo, 
Vizes :  Devizes,  a  town  in  Wiltshire. 
Page  45.    Yeast :  a  novel  by  Charles  Kingsley,  published  in  1848. 
Page  46.    all  beer  and  skittles :  a  proverbial  expression  meaning  '  all 
fun  and  enjoyment.'    Skittles  are  the  same  as  ninepins. 
palaver  houses  :  debating  societies. 

John  :  John  Bull ;  that  is,  England.  He  means  that  the  country  is 
'  saddled  '  with  a  Parliament  which  is  really  useless. 

7-ed-tape :  official  documents  are  tied  up  with  red  tape,  and  the 
word  has  come  to  be  a  symbol  of  official  stupidity  and  delay. 
Page  47.    the  old  Parliamentary-tnajority  dodge :  that  is,  a  trick  for 
getting  votes. 

costennonger :  a  man  who  goes  about  with  a  cart,  selling  fruit 
and  vegetables.  A  '  costard,'  from  which  the  word  is  derived,  is  a 
large  kind  of  apple. 

[421] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS  ?' 


CHAPTER  III 

Page  49.  turnspit  terrier :  a  kind  of  dog  which  was  formerly  employed 
in  kitchens  to  turn  the  spit  for  roasting  meat,  by  means  of  a  cage 
in  the  form  of  a  wheel,  into  which  the  dog  was  put.  It  had  a  long 
body  and  short  legs,  like  a  dachshund. 

bootless :  fruitless,  unsuccessful. 

head-boroughs :  head  constables,  the  chief  police  officers  of  the 
district.  Compare  Shakespeare's  'Taming  of  the  Shrew,'  Induction, 
scene  i,  1.  1 2. 
Page  50.  a  ivild  comt/ion  :  a  great  deal  of  land  in  England  was  held 
from  the  earliest  times  '  in  common  ' ;  it  belonged  to  no  individual, 
but  the  people  in  the  neighbourhood,  the  '  commoners,'  had  rights 
of  grazing  etc.  on  it.  At  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  and  beginning 
of  the  nineteenth  centuries  the  greater  part  of  common  land  was 
enclosed  and  became  private  property,  but  extensive  commons  still 
exist  in  many  places. 

squatted :  settled  on  the  land  without  any  legal  right  to  do  so. 

lords  of  7na>iors :  the  lord  of  the  manor,  the  chief  landowner, 
would  have  certain  rights  over  the  common. 

publican  :  keeper  of  the  public  house,  or  inn. 
Page  52.    lurcher:  a  cross  between  a  greyhound  and  a  sheep-dog;  so 
called  because  it  was  commonly  used  by  poachers,  who  were  called 
lurchers  because  they  '  lurched '  or  lurked  about. 
Page  53.    lissom  :  active,  supple. 

samplers :  it  used  to  be  a  common  custom  for  girls  to  do,  as  a 
sample  of  their  skill,  a  piece  of  fancy  sewing  containing  their  name, 
their  birthplace,  and  a  rhyme  or  text. 

ingle:  that  is,  the  ingle-nook,  the  corner  at  the  side  of  a  wide 
open  fireplace. 

tnute    inglorious    Miltotts :    a    quotation    from    Gray's    '  Elegy 
Written  in  a  Country  Churchyard.' 
Page  56.    embrangle:  mix  up  in  confusion. 

the  Crichton :  James  Crichton,  born  in  1 560,  who  was  called 
'  The  Admirable  Crichton,'  was  a  Scotchman  who  travelled  in  France 
and  Italy  and  roused  universal  admiration  by  his  wonderful  memory 
and  power  of  argument.  He  is  said  to  have  been  murdered  at  the 
age  of  twenty-five  by  his  pupil,  the  son  of  the  Duke  of  Mantua. 

[422] 


I 


NOTES 

true  blue  Tory :  '  Tory  '  is  a  political  name  originally  given  to  the 
extreme  partisans  of  the  Crown  at  the  end  of  the  seventeenth  cen- 
tury, and  in  modern  times  to  the  extreme  Conservatives,  those  most 
opposed  to  change.  True  blue  (fixed,  unfading,  or  Coventry  blue) 
is  the  Tory  electioneering  color  in  most  parts  of  England. 
Page  57.  vestry :  a  meeting  of  chief  men  in  a  parish  to  consult  on 
parish  business.    See  note  on  t lie  parish  butts  (p.  415). 

close :  an  enclosed  space ;  used  now  principally  of  the  precincts  of 
a  cathedral ;  the  word  is  applied  at  Rugby  to  the  old  playing-ground, 
which  was  formed  out  of  several  closes,  or  fields. 

niullioned  windows :  windows  divided  by  vertical  stone  bars ; 
they  are  a  characteristic  of  Elizabethan  house-architecture. 
Page  58.  Swiss  Fa)?iily  Robinson  :  a  very  well-known  story  of  the 
adventures  of  a  family  cast  on  an  island.  The  author  was  J.  D.  Wyss, 
a  Swiss;  it  was  published  in  1813. 
Page  60.  forms  :  here  '  forms  '  means  benches.  The  word  is  also  used 
in  schools  to  mean  classes. 

withdrew  to  the  servants^  hall :  the  village  schoolmasters  of  the 
time  were  simple,  half-educated  people.    They  would  not  go  to  the 
servants'  hall  nowadays. 
Page  62.    ro2cnde?-s :  an  old  game  from  which  baseball  developed. 

high-cock-a-loruitt :   leap-frog.  The  player  shouts  '  High-cock-a- 
lorum,  jig,  jig,  jig '  as  he  leaps  over  each  back. 
Page  65.  green  rides :  paths  cut  through  a  wood  to  allow  horsemen  to 
pass  through  it. 

pan-pipes :  a  simple  home-made  musical  instrument. 
Page  66.  private  school :    a  school  where  small   boys   are  prepared 
for  the  public  schools.    Hughes  was  sent  to  a  private   school  at 
Twyford,  near  Winchester. 

alley-taws :  a  taw  is  a  marble ;  '  alley-taw  '  is  probably  short  for 
'alabaster-taw,'  i.e.  a  real  'marble,'  not  one  made  of  inferior  stone. 
Page  67.  public  schools :  not,  as  the  name  might  suggest,  government 
schools,  but  big  boarding  schools,  too  expensive  for  any  but  well- 
to-do  people,  where  boys  are  educated  for  the  Universities  and  for 
the  various  careers. 

ushers :  the  name  was  applied  to  inferior  masters  such  as  are  here 
described ;  they  have  fortunately  long  ceased  to  exist. 
Page  6g.  gaby  :  fool. 

[423] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

Page  70.  primum  iempus :  first  time,  that  is,  first  offence. 

bulls' -eyes :  large  round  sweets  flavoured  with  peppermint. 
the  down  :  that  is,  Hazeldown.    Chalk  hills  (see  note  on  chalk 
hills,  p.  415)  are  usually  called  downs,  e.g.  the  North  and  South 
Downs;  the  word  comes  from  the  Old  English  dun,  meaning  '  hill.' 
Page  72.    working :  trying  to  induce. 

CHAPTER  IV 

Page  74.    Tally-ho  coach  :  '  tally-ho  '  was  a  common  name  for  a  coach 
at  the  time.    '  Tally-ho  '  is  the  huntsman's  cry  to  urge  on  his  hounds. 
the  Boots :  the  man  who  cleans  the  boots  and  does  odd  jobs. 
Islington :  a  borough  in  the  north  part  of  London.   The  Peacock 
was  a  very  famous  coaching  inn  at  which  all  north-going  coaches 
stopped. 
Page  75.  postchaise :  a  hired  close  carriage,  driven  by  a  postboy,  or 
postillion,  who  rode  on  one  of  the  horses. 

the  Star :  the  coach  that  brought  him  up  from  Berkshire. 
Page  76.   stout :  a  dark  liquor  like  beer,  but  stronger. 
Page  77.  flint  and  steel,  and  tinder:   in  days  before  matches  were 
invented,  the  ordinary  way  of  getting  a   light  was  by  striking  a 
flint  on  steel  and  kindling  a  piece  of  tinder. with  the  spark  —  a  very 
laborious  process. 

Trichinopoli :  a  city  in  India,  famous  for  its  tobacco. 
Page  78.    the  digamma  :  a  Greek  letter  which  had  become  obsolete  in 
classical  times. 

comforter :  a  woollen  wrap  to  go  round  the  neck. 
Petersham  coat:  a  great-coat  called  after  a  certain  Lord  Peter- 
sham, who  was  a  famous  dandy  about  181 2. 
Page  79.    the  town-made  drag :  the  drag  is  the  coach  itself. 

guard:   still   so   called    on    English    trains;    in    omnibuses   and 
tram-cars  the  word  '  conductor  '  is  used. 

the  hind  boot :  the  place  at  the  back  of  the  coach  in  which  parcels 
were  carried. 

his  late  Majesty  :  William  IV. 
Page  80.  plaid :  a  rectangular  piece  of  woollen  stuff  used  by  Scotch 
countrymen  instead  of  an  overcoat.   Till  quite  recent  times  railway 
carriages  were  not  heated. 

[424] 


NOTES 

pikeman  :  man  at  the  turnpike.   See  note  on  turnpike-roads  (p.  420). 
Page  81.    early  purl :  purl,  according  to  the  dictionaries,  is  hot  beer 

flavoured  with  gin,  sugar,  and  ginger. 
Page  82.    huntsman''s  hack :  the  horse  on  which  he  rides  to  the  meet, 
where  he  would  mount  his  '  hunter.' 

old  pink :  fox  hunters  commonly  wear  a  bright  pink  tail  coat  and 
white  riding  breeches. 

the  inn  door :  probably  at  Stony  Stratford. 
Page  84.    bagmen  :  commercial  travellers. 

sharp-set:  hungry. 
Page  86.    way-bill :  list  of  passengers. 

tap :  taproom,  where  drink  is  served. 
burgesses :  citizens. 

knock  out  of  time :  to-day  this  phrase  is  commonly  shortened 
to  '  knock  out.'  A  boxer  is  knocked  out  of  time,  or  knocked  out, 
when  he  cannot  rise  to  his  feet  within  a  certain  time. 
Page  87.  ^Masin'  big  horse  and  cattle  fair :  the  visitor  may  still  see, 
by  the  pavement  in  the  old  streets,  square  holes  in  which  posts  used 
to  be  put  at  the  time  of  the  fair  in  order  to  form  a  barrier  to  keep 
the  horses  and  cattle  away  from  foot  passengers.  Rugby  now  has 
a  cattle  market  every  week,  and  the  autumn  fair  is  not  so  important. 
Page  88.  first-day  boys :  as  coach  accommodation  was  very  limited, 
the  school  took  several  days  to  meet  and  disperse. 

Pats:  Pat,  short  for   Patrick,  is  a  nickname  for  an    Irishman, 

many  of  whom  are  named  after  St.  Patrick,  the  patron  saint  of  Ireland. 

Page  89.    the  half:  in  those  days,  when  travelling  was  difficult,  the 

school  year  was  divided  into  two  halves ;  now  there  are  three  terms. 

Page  90.  yeoman  chap :  farmer.    See  note  on  yeo/nen's  work  (p.  413). 

cob  :  a  thickset,  sturdy  horse. 
Page  91.    county  tnetnbers :  members  of  Parliament  for  the  county. 
Page  92.    bowls:  an  old  and  very  peaceful  English  game,  still  constantly 
played,  in  which  differently  weighted  wooden  balls,  not  quite  round, 
are  rolled  at  a  smaller  one.    The  nearest  ones  count,  and  the  art  con- 
sists in  using  the  'bias'  of  the  bowl,  by  which  it  is  made  to  roll  in  a 
curve  and  knock  an  opponent's  bowl  away.    According  to  tradition, 
Drake  was  playing  bowls  at  Plymouth  when  the  Armada  came  in  sight. 
cricket  bats  and  wickets :  for  a  description  of  a  cricket  match 
see  Part  II,  Chapter  VIII. 

[435] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

CHAPTER  V 

Page  94.    the  Sclwol-Iwuse :  the  oldest  and  biggest  of  the  boarding- 
houses,  presided  over  by  the  Head  Master. 

Dead-tnan's  corner :  really  some  two  miles  south  of  Rugby;  the 
name  has  now  passed  out  of  memory. 

the  spread  Eagle :    the  chief  inn  at  the  time ;   it  is   now  the 
Eagle  Temperance  Hotel,  in  t"he  market  place. 
Page  96.    one/  windoiu :  a  projecting  window. 
Page  98.    louts :  town  boys. 

the  quadrangle :  a  courtyard  round  which  are  the  School  House 
and  the  old  form  rooms. 

go-io-ineeting  roof :  that  is,  Sunday  hat.  It  would  be  a  top-hat. 
The  '  regulation  cat-skin  '  was  also  a  top-hat,  but  of  an  inferior 
quality.  It  gave  place  to  the  straw  hat  as  the  '  regulation '  hat  a 
few  years  ago. 

send  in  a  note :  boys  can  present  a  note  signed  by  their  house- 
master at  authorized  shops.    The  goods  are  then  charged  for  in  the 
bills  at  the  end  of  the  term. 
tile :  a  slang  word  for  a  hat. 
Page  i  00.    hoiu  afelloiv  cuts  up :  what  sort  of  an  impression  he  makes. 

half  a  sov :  half  a  sovereign,  ten  shillings. 
Page  103.    Grifnaldi :  a  horse  named  after  a  popular  comedian  of  the 
early  part  of  the  nineteenth  century. 

Amy  Robsart :  the  ill-fated  heroine  in  '  Kenilworth,'  one  of 
Scott's  Waverley  novels. 

Tom  Crib :  a  famous  boxer,  the  champion  of  his  time ;  he  died 
in  1848. 
Page  i  04.  climbing-irons :  an  iron  frame  with  spikes,  which  is  strapped 
to  the  foot  or  below  the  knee ;  it  enables  the  wearer  to  climb  a  tree 
which  affords  no  hand-hold  or  foothold. 
Page  105.  praepostor :  praepositor,  'some  one  placed  over  others.' 
The  name  is  given  to  the  boys  in  the  sixth  form  (the  highest  form) 
who  are  responsible  for  the  discipline  of  the  school. 

reading:  working;  'reading'  is  commonly  used  in  this  sense  at 
the  Universities. 

pastrycook's :  shop  where  pastry  and  other  sweet  things  are 
sold. 

[426] 


I 


NOTES 

big-bearded  man  :  it  is  hard  to  believe  that  a  boy  of  nineteen 
could  grow  a  big  beard,  but  these  days  of  clean  shaving  afford 
no  experience,  and  old  photographic  groups  show  indisputably  that 
boys  could  grow  whiskers. 

tlie  old  verger :  his  name  was  Thomas  Woollridge;  he  also  appears 

in  the  book  as  'Thos.'     He  was  one  of  the  menservants,  and  was 

called  the  verger  because  his  duties  included  the  care  of  the  chapel. 

Page  io6.    Mentor:    Mentor  in    Homer    is    the   wise   counsellor    of 

Telemachus. 
Page  107.  the  big  fives  court :  fives  is  a  game  in  which  a  small  hard 
ball  is  knocked  about  against  the  walls  of  a  court.  Ordinarily  it  is 
played  with  the  hand  (hence  the  name  '  fives '),  but  in  the  big 
fives  court  they  played  'bat-fives'  against  the  walls  of  the  school 
buildings  opposite  the  east  end  of  the  chapel;  the  present  chapel 
covers  much  of  the  space,  but  there  are  numerous  fives  courts  built 
for  the  purpose  in  one  corner  of  the  Close. 
Page  108.  little-side:  the  less  important  games,  as  opposed  to  'big- 
side.' 

the  island :  a  mound  which  is  probably  an  ancient  British  bar- 
row, or  burial  mound.  In  later  times  the  monks  from  the  great 
abbey  of  Pipewell,  who  owned  the  land,  built  a  grange  close  to  the 
tumulus,  around  which  they  dug  a  moat  and  filled  it  with  water 
from  springs  in  the  gravel,  in  order  to  provide  themselves  with  a 
fish-pond.  Thus  the  tumulus  became  an  island,  and  remained  so 
until  the  moat  was  drained  in  1847.    It  still  retains  the  name. 

island  fagging :  a  curious  custom  by  which  the  uncongenial  sur- 
face of  the  island  (it  is  covered  with  trees)  was  planted  with  flowers 
and  turf  procured  from  neighbouring  fields  and  gardens,  in  honour 
of  Speech  Day,  which  then  took  place  in  Easter  week.  The  cus- 
tom died  out  when  Speech  Day  was  transferred  to  the  summer  (see 
page  390). 

scud :  fast  runner. 

hacks:  kicks. 

in  quarters :  for  this  and  other  technical  terms  see  the  descrip- 
tion of  the  football  match  later  on  in  this  chapter.  Besides  its  inter- 
est as  part  of  a  vivid  story,  the  description  is  also  interesting  as 
showing  an  early  stage  in  the  game  of  Rugby  football,  which  has 
spread  from  the  School  Close  at  Rugby  over  a  large  part  of  the 

[427] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

English-speaking  world.  The  modern  game,  played  fifteen  a  side,  is 
a  very  different  game  from  that  which  is  here  described. 

cock  of  the  School :  champion  boxer,  and  generally  dominant. 

Page  109.  the  Doctor's  wall :  the  red-brick  wall  which  divides  the 
School-house  garden  from  the  Close. 

Page  hi.  the  three  t?-ees :  like  the  other  elms  in  the  Close,  these 
were  the  remains  of  lines  of  hedgerow  elms  which  had  originally 
divided  the  ground  into  separate  fields.  The  last  of  the  Three 
Trees  was  blown  down  in  a  great  gale  in  March,  1895,  when  nine- 
teen other  elms  also  fell. 

Page  112.  the  lower  fourth :  Dr.  Thomas  James,  an  Etonian  under 
whose  guidance  between  1778  and  1794  the  school  increased  very 
much,  divided  the  school  into  six  forms  on  the  Eton  system,  the 
sixth  form  being  the  highest.  The  sixth  and  fifth  forms  still  exist, 
and  in  various  subdivisions  form  the  Upper  School,  but  the  other 
names  have  dropped  out. 

Page  i  13.    the  shell :   this  term,  as  the  name  of  a  form,  came  origi- 
nally from  Westminster  School,  where  it  was  given  to  the  form 
that  sat  in  a  shell-like  alcove  in  the  great  school-room.     It  still 
survives  at  Rugby,  but  as  one  of  the  lowest  forms. 
will  he,  nill  he  :  whether  he  likes  it  or  not. 

fags :  all  boys  below  the  Upper  School  are  '  fags ' ;  that  is,  they 
are  liable  to  be  employed  by  the  sixth  form  to  go  on  errands,  clean 
their  studies,  and  so  on. 

Page  i  i  6.    he  of  Russia :  the  Tsar. 

Page  i  i  7.  ///  the  consulship  of  Plancus  :  in  my  younger  days  (consule 
Planco,  Horace,  Odes,  III,  14). 

Page  118.  petming :  pressing,  hemming  in. 

Page  119.  locking-up :  boys  have  to  be  in  their  houses  before  the 
doors  are  locked  in  the  evening,  at  a  time  varying  with  the  season. 

Page  i  20.    toco  :  a  slang  word  for  chastisement. 

all  Lombard  Street  to  a  china  orange :   a  proverbial  expression 
for  heavy  odds.    Lombard  Street  in  London  is  a  banking  centre. 

Page  122.    Hill  Morion  :  a  village  close  to  Rugby. 

in  the  Pyrenees :  during  the  Peninsular  War,  1808-1814. 

Page  123.  fob'' s  war-horse :   Job  xxxix,  19-25. 

Page  124.  the  colutnn  of  the  Old  Guard :  the  last  desperate  attack  of 
the  French  at  Waterloo. 

[428] 


NOTES 

CHAPTER  VI 

Page  i  26.    opodeldoc  :  a  liniment  for  bruises. 

Page  127.   Saily  HarroiveWs :  the  shop  stood  on  ground  now  occu- 
pied by  part  of  the  School  buildings  in  the  New  Quadrangle. 

mu7-phies :  potatoes,  because  '  Murphy  '  is  a  common  Irish  name 
and  potatoes  are  the  staple  food  in  Ireland.  The  word  is  obsolete 
now.     For  the  '  tuck-shop  '  see  note  on  tuck  (p.  438). 

alloivances :  boys  are  allowed  a  shilling  a  week  for  pocket  money. 
tick  :  a  common  slang  word  for  credit.    If  you  can't  pay,  you  '  go 
on  tick.'    It  is  an  abbreviation  of  '  ticket.' 
Page  i  30.    on  Jicr  slate ':  slates  and  slate  pencils  were  in  common  use 
for  temporary  writing  before  paper  and  lead  pencils  became  so  cheap. 
hind  carrier  of  a  sedan-chair:  a  sedan-chair  was  a  kind  of  closed 
box  in  which  one  person  could  sit ;   it  was  carried  on  poles,  like  a 
stretcher,  by  two  men. 
Page  i  34.    time-hotwured  ceremony  :  the  custom  of  having  new  boys 
sing  ('lamb-singing'  it  is  called  now)  still  survives  in  the  School-house, 
on  the  third  Saturday  in  each  term. 
Page  136.    The  Leather  Bottel :    the  words  are   of  the   seventeenth 
century ;  the  tune  is  traditional. 

the  fugleman  :  the  leader  (a  military  term). 
the  old  sea  sofig :  written  by  Alan  Cunningham  in  1 8 1  o. 
Chesapeake  and  Shannon  :    a  song  celebrating  the  famous  sea 
fight  between  these  two  ships  off  Boston  in  1813. 

the  boarders :  the  men  who  board  a  ship  in  an  attack  at  close 
quarters. 
Page  138.    the  young  uti :  his  younger  brother. 

the  Balliol  scholarship  :  scholarships  at  Balliol  College,  Oxford, 
were  and  are  more  difficult  to  win  than  those  at  any  other  college, 
the  competition  being  very  keen. 
Page  139.    this  new  Doctor:  Doctor  Arnold  became  head  master  in 

1828.    Hughes  went  to  Rugby  in  1834. 
Page  140.    cord  t?vusers :  cord,  or  corduroy,  is  a  very  strong  ribbed 
cloth,  made  of  cotton,  with  a  velvety  surface. 
a  keen  hand :  a  sporting  person. 

harriers  and  beagles :  hounds  used  for  hunting  hares.  Eton  boys 
still  keep  a  pack  of  beagles. 

[429] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

big-side  Hare  and  Hounds :  in  hunting  tlie  hare  the  hunters  go  on 
foot;  hence  the  name  'Hare  and  Hounds'  is  given  to  a  game  in 
which  two  boys  are  given  a  start  and  the  rest  run  after  them,  tracing 
their  course  by  scraps  of  paper  thrown  by  the  'hares'  as  they  run. 
See  Chapter  VH. 

Page  141.    a  public-school  man  :  Arnold  was  at  school  at  Winchester. 

Page  142.  ain't :  this  was  a  common  colloquialism  amongst  the  edu- 
cated a  generation  ago;  it  is  now  used  mainly  by  uneducated  people. 

Page  143.  law  of  the  Medes  and  Persiatts :  'the  law  of  the  Medes 
and  Persians,  which  altereth  not '  (Dan.  vi,  8). 

Page  144.   dips:  tallow-candles. 

cocktail :  here  the  term  is  evidently  used  of  the  bottled  beer. 

Page  i  46.  the  buttery-door- :  a  buttery  is  a  room  in  which  provisions 
are  kept.    The  word  is  still  in  use  at  the  Universities. 

Page  147.  their  waistcoats :  there  was  no  regulation  school  dress  at 
this  period,  and  fancy  waistcoats  were  much  in  fashion  at  the  time. 

cap  on  head :  masters  still  wear  a  university  cap  and  gown  in 
school  and  chapel. 

Page  i  48.  funk :  are  afraid. 

Page  149.  Gone  to  ground :  when  a  fox  takes  refuge  in  his  'earth,'  or 
hole,  he  is  said  to  'go  to  ground.' 

Page  150.  good  plucked  one:  plucky,  brave.  The  '  pluck '  of  an  animal 
is  the  heart  and  other  organs ;  hence  '  pluck  '  came  to  mean  courage. 

Page  152.  the  rub:  the  difficulty — a  word  familiarized  by  the  line 
in  Hamlet, 

To  sleep  !  perchance  to  dream  ;  aye,  there  's  the  rub  ; 
In  this  sense  it  comes  from  a  technical  term  in  the  game  of  bowls. 

CHAPTER  vn 

Page  155.  Bogle :  I  do  not  know  why  the  shoeblacks,  or  boot-boys  as 
they  would  be  called  now,  were  nicknamed  Bogles.  A  bogle  is  a 
scarecrow,  but  there  may  have  been  no  connection.  The  nickname 
is  no  longer  used. 

a  pull :  a  lucky  thing. 

Page  160.  Osbert :  Hughes  in  later  years,  on  one  of  his  visits  to 
Rugby,  related  this  feat  as  having  been  performed  by  W.  C.  Oswell, 
who  was  afterwards  a  famous  African  explorer. 

[430] 


NOTES 

the  Greek  text :  it  is  still  over  the  door  in  the  new  chapel.    It  is 

the  first  verse  of  Psalm  cxxii,  '  I  was  glad  when  they  said  unto  me, 

Let  us  go  into  the  house  of  the  Lord.' 
Page  164.    enough  to  sink  a  three-decker :   a  proverbial  expression; 

the  old  wooden  battle-ships  were  built  with  three  decks. 

the  big  School:  known  now  as  Old  Big  School;  several  forms 

used  to  be  taught  in  it  at  the  same  time. 
Page  168.    Barby  :  a  village  four  miles  south-east  of  Rugby. 
Page  169.    six  minutes^  law :  six  minutes'  start. 

wattle :  the  word  ordinarily  means  a  hurdle  of  woven  rods,  but 

here  it  seems  to  mean  a  thick  hedge. 
Page  i  70.    making  casts  :  a  phrase  used  in  hunting  when  the  hounds 

are  taken  round  in  a  wide  circle,  in  order  to  pick  up  a  lost  scent. 

All  the  technical  terms  in  Hare  and  Hounds  are  borrowed  from  the 

real  sport. 
fencing  :  jumping  fences. 
Page  172.    the  Cock :  the  'Cock  and  Robin,'  now  turned  into  cottages, 

stood  near  the  village  of  Dunchurch,  about  two  miles  from  Rugby. 
all  hope  of  coming  in  :  that  is,  within  the  quarter  of  an  hour 

after  the  hares. 
Page  173.    the  run  in:  the  last  part  of  the  course,  going  straight  to 

the  rendezvous. 
Page  174.    the  Oxfo7'd coach:  this  coach  ran  from  Oxford  to  Leicester, 

through  Dunchurch  and  Rugby. 
Page  177.    Nicias''  galleys :  Nicias  was  an  Athenian  commander  who 

fought  in  the  Peloponnesian  War.    Dr.  Arnold  was  a  keen  historian, 

and  edited  Thucydides'  history  of  this  war. 
Page  i  78.    twenty  lines  :  twenty  lines  of  poetry. 

cockfighting :   two  boys,  each  hopping  on  one  foot  and  holding 

his  hands  against  his  sides,  attack  each  other  with  their  elbows.    The 

one  who  puts  both  feet  on  the  floor,  or  takes  his  hands  from  his 

sides,  is  beaten. 
Page  i  80.    cornopean  :  a  cornet.  The  song  is  a  well-known  old  hunting 

song. 
Journey-money  :  money  for  the  journey  home. 
Page  182.    Bird's:  one  of  the  boarding-houses  on  the  Hill  Morton 

Road.    The  boarding-houses  at  Rugby  other  than  the  School-house 

are  known  by  the  name  of  the  house-master  of  the  time. 

[431] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

CHAPTER  VIII 

Page  i  84.    the  accidence :  the  more  elementary  part  of  grammar. 

Page  185.  taking  them  up  :  going  above  them  in  class  by  answering 
questions  which  they  had  failed  at ;  the  process  is  called  '  taking 
places.' 

Argils :  the  man  with  a  hundred  eyes,  in  Greek  mythology,  who 
was  set  by  Hera  to  guard  the  cow  into  which  she  had  transformed  lo. 
their  verses  :  the  Latin  verses  which  they  had  composed. 
their  jackets  ivhitened :  that  is,  with  chalk. 

Page  186.    copies :  exercises  in  Latin  or  Greek  prose  or  verse. 

Page  i  88.  get  construes  of:  get  some  other  boy  to  translate. 

Page  189.  Triste  lupus  stabulis :  'the  wolf  is  a  scourge  [literally, 
a  woeful  thing  the  wolf]  to  the  flocks'  (Virgil,  Eclogues,  III,  80). 

Page  192.  William  Tell :  the  famous  Swiss  patriot  who  stood  up 
against  the  Austrians  in  the  fourteenth  century. 

Page  193.  was  just  coming  out :  the  Pickwick  Papers,  by  Dickens, 
were  published  in  monthly  parts  in  1836- 183 7. 

Page  197.  a  leTv  0/ the  School :  a  meeting  of  the  school.  In  modern 
times  only  the  L'pper  School  attend  the  levies,  which  are  usually  only 
formal.  The  Head  of  the  School,  no  longer  called  captain,  presides. 
sent  to  Coventry :  when  a  boy  is  '  sent  to  Coventry '  no  one 
will  speak  to  him  or  have  any  dealings  with  him.  The  phrase  ap- 
pears to  have  originated  in  the  Civil  Wars.  Coventry  was  then 
a  Parliamentary  stronghold,  and  Clarendon  records  that  some  of  the 
king's  men,  being  captured,  were  sent  to  Coventry  as  a  safe  place. 

Page  203.  out  0/  bounds :  boys  were  not  allowed  to  go  outside  a  cer- 
tain radius  round  the  school.  Nowadays  it  is  the  town  which  is  '  out 
of  bounds,'  with  the  exception  of  certain  streets. 

Page  204.  Penates :  household  possessions.  The  Penates  were  the 
household  gods  of  the  Romans. 

Page  205.  the  Derby  lottery :  the  Derby,  so  called  in  1780  after  Lord 
Derby,  a  great  patron  of  the  turf,  is  a  race  for  three-year-olds,  and 
is  run  at  Epsom  in  Surrey  every  May.  It  is  the  most  important  race 
of  the  year,  and  Derby  day  is  a  great  popular  festival  for  Londoners. 
making  books :  to  make  a  book  on  a  race  is  to  arrange  and  record 
bets  on  or  against  various  horses. 

Houses  of  Palaver :  a  contemptuous  term  for  Parliament. 

[432] 


NOTES 

Page  206.    as  a  hedge :  to  '  hedge  '  a  bet  is  to  safeguard  oneself  from 

loss  on  it  by   making  other  bets  to  compensate ;   but  Flashman's 

words  are  only  an  excuse. 

///i?  f/zsy  :    '  tizzy  '  is  a  slang  word  for  a  sixpence.    It  is  a  corruption 

of  the  old  word  '  tester.'    The  tizzy  was  his  profit  on  the  transaction, 

for  he  had  paid  a  shilling  for  the  lottery  ticket. 
Page  208.    coxiest :  most  impertinent.    A  slang  word  which  has  fallen 

into  disuse  in  public  schools. 

CHAPTER  IX 

Page  219.  Brownsover :  a  village  close  to  Rugby  on  the  north,  the 
other  side  of  the  Avon. 

hurdle :  a  strong  wooden  frame  about  six  feet  long  and  three  feet 
high,  made  of  split  stakes  and  interwoven  withies.  They  are  used 
for  temporary  enclosures,  e.g.  "for  sheep.  They  were  the  original 
obstacles  in  hurdle-racing. 

Page  220.  Kossuth,  Garibaldi,  Mazzini :  three  heroes  in  the  struggle 
for  liberty  against  despotism  in  the  middle  of  the  nineteenth  century. 
Kossuth  was  a  Hungarian ;  Mazzini  and  Garibaldi  were  Italians, 
the  former  being  a  thinker  and  writer,  the  latter  a  man  of  action. 
The  enemy  in  each  case  was  Austria. 

Page  221.  Ishmaelites :  '  He  [Ishmael]  will  be  a  wild  man  ;  his  hand 
will  be  against  every  man,  and  every  man's  hand  against  him ' 
(Genesis  xvi,  i  2). 

Page  224.  ticket-of-leave  men  :  convicts  who  are  let  out  of  gaol  be- 
fore their  sentence  is  served,  as  a  reward  of  good  behaviour,  have  to 
report  themselves  to  the  police  at  regular  intervals.  In  Hughes's 
day  the  '  ticket  of  leave  '  was  granted  without  requiring  previous 
good  behaviour,  efficient  supervision  of  the  men  thus  released  was 
not  insisted  on,  and  the  system  worked  very  badly. 

Page  226.  The  river  Avon  :  Shakespeare's  Avon,  which  rises  near 
Naseby  and  flows  through  Rugby  and  Stratford  on  Avon  to  join 
the  Severn  at  Tewkesbury.  Boys  in  the  school  no  longer  fish  or 
bathe  in  it,  but  there  is  still  a  bathing  place  at  '  Swifts,'  where  the 
little  tributary,  the  Swift,  which  flows  from  Lutterworth  (Wyclif's 
last  parish),  joins  the  Avon. 

the  Planks :  the  planks  have  given  place  within  recent  years 
to  a  cement  causeway. 

[  433  ] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

Pages  226-227.    SleatJis,   Anstey''s^    Wratislaw" s :    Sleath,  Anstey, 

and  Wratislaw  were  well-known  Rugby  names  in  the  first  half  of 

the  nineteenth  century,  both  as  boys  and  afterwards  as  masters. 
Page  227.    tJiought  no  small  beer  of  ilicinseh'es  :  small  beer  is  poor, 

weak  beer;  hence  the  phrase,  which  means  '  to  think  highly  of  oneself.' 
Page  228.    night-lines :  lines  baited  and  left  in  the  stream  all  night. 
Page  230.   As  /  uft^  my  companions :  a  well-known  old  English  song 

called  '  The  Poacher,'  which  begins  '  When  I  was  bound  apprentice 

in  famous  Lincolnshire.'    It  is  the  marching  song  of  the  Lincolnshire 

regiment. 

t/ie  lotus-eaters :  Odyssey,  IX,  83-102.    The  lotus  fruit  made  the 

eater  forget  home  and  friends  and  live  in  a  state  of  dreamy  pleasure. 

See  also  Tennyson's  poem,  '  The  Lotos-Eaters.' 
eplieinerae :  insects  that  live  for  a  day. 
the  gentle  craft :  fishing ;  so  termed  by  Isaac  W^alton  in  '  The 

Compleat  Angler,'  published  in  1653. 
Page  231.    tnade  a  dead  point :  like  a  'pointer,'  a  sporting  dog  which 

stops  short  when  it  scents  a  bird. 
Page  232.    Mz^^.- an  obsolete  slang  word  for  a  nickname.  See  page  149. 
Page  234.    two  bob :  '  bob  '  is  slang  for  a  shilling. 
Page  235.    of  the  school :  the  school  against  the  outside  wall  of  which 

the  game  was  played.    See  note  on  the  big  fives  court  fp.  427). 
Page  236.    the  viinute-hand  of  the  great  clock  :  the  old  minute-hand 

of   the  clock,  which  is    preserved    in   the  school   art  museum,   is 

inscribed  with  the  name  '  T.  Hughes  '  amongst  others. 
Page  238.    old  Holmes,   a  sturdy,  cheery  praepostor :    undoubtedly 

drawn  from  S.  C.  Holmes  Hansard,  who  was  afterwards  Rector  of 

Bethnal  Green  in  East  London  and  a  friend  of  Hughes. 

the  master  of  their  form  :  the  man  meant  is  G.  E.  L.  Cotton,  who 

was  afterwards  Head  Master  of  Marlborough  and  Bishop  of  Calcutta. 


PART  II 

CHAPTER  I 

Page  245.    slings :  for  slinging  stones. 

Marryafs  novels :   Captain  Marryat  was  a  naval  officer  who  wrote 
very  popular  novels  dealing  with  life  in  the  navy.    He  died  in  1 848. 

[434] 


NOTES 

decline :  a  name  by  which  consumption  used  to  be  known. 
George  Arthur :  an  uncritical  but  wide-spread  tradition  said  that 
the  original  of  Arthur  was  Arthur  Penrhyn  Stanley,  afterwards 
Dean  of  Westminster,  who  wrote  Dr.  Arnold's  Life  and  other  well- 
known  books.  Stanley  left  Rugby  very  soon  after  Hughes  went 
there,  and  they  were  not  acquainted  till  later  years.  Like  Tom 
Brown  himself,  and  East  and  others,  the  portrait  appears  to  have 
been  a  composite  one. 

Page  246.    h  still  livi/ig :  Mrs.  Arnold  died  in  1873. 

Page  248.  rooks :  birds  resembling  crows,  but  feeding  wholly  on  grain 
and  insects. 

Page  255.  Square-toes :  square-toed  boots  and  shoes  were  character- 
istic of  pedantic,  old-fashioned,  and  puritanical  people. 

Page  256.    the  cave  in  Mount  Horeb  :   i  Kings  xix. 

CHAPTER  II 

Page  268.  the  war:  the  war  against  Napoleon.  There  was  a  period 
of  great  industrial  depression  after  its  close  in   181 5. 

Utopian  ideas :  ideas  too  fine  to  be  realized  in  the  world.  '  Utopia,' 
which  means  '  Nowhere-land,'  written  by  Sir  Thomas  More  in  151 6, 
was  the  first  in  English  of  many  books  in  which  reformers  have 
pictured  an  ideal  state. 

Page  269.  Chartism :  the  Chartists  were  a  political  society  who  in 
the  early  years  of  Queen  Victoria's  reign  advocated  electoral  reforms 
embodied  in  '  The  People's  Charter.'  The  reforms,  though  sweep- 
ing, were  not  unreasonable,  and  several  of  them  have  long  since 
become  law;  but  they  were  considered  revolutionary  at  the  time,  and 
the  Chartists,  who  adopted  a  somewhat  mutinous  attitude,  were 
the  objects  of  much  fear. 

Page  271.  a  Freethinking  Club :  'freethinkers'  was  a  common  term 
in  Victorian  times  for  those  who  refused  to  accept  the  views  of  any 
religious  organization. 

Page  272.  Lord  Grey  and  the  Reform  Bill :  Lord  Grey  introduced 
the  great  Reform  Bill  of  1832,  which  only  passed  after  a  very  fierce 
struggle ;  it  extended  the  franchise  widely  and  reorganized  the 
electoral  districts. 

Page  273.    Ahiaman  :  1  Kings  v. 

[  435  ] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

CHAPTER  III 

Page  277.  Gradus  ad  Parnassum  :  '  Steps  to  Parnassus,'  a  very  well- 
known  English-Latin  verse  dictionary,  which  gives  synonyms  and 
quotations  from  the  Latin  poets. 

as  mad  as  a  hatter :  a  proverbial  expression.    Compare  Calverley : 

And  such  was  he.    A  calm-browed  lad. 

Yet  mad,  at  moments,  as  a  hatter : 
Why  hatters  as  a  race  are  mad 

I  never  knew,  nor  does  it  matter. 

Page  282.  the  Russian  engineers  at  Sebastopol :  under  Todleben  the 
defences  of  Sebastopol  in  the  Crimea  were  so  well  organized  that  the 
town  held  out  for  eleven  months  against  the  French  and  English 
(1854-1855). 

Page  283.  7noss-troopers :  so  called  because  their  strongholds  were 
among  the  '  mosses,'  or  marshes,  on  the  borders  of  England  and 
Scotland  ;  they  were  freebooters  who  made  raids  on  the  border 
farms  and  drove  off  the  cattle. 

Bewick:  a  famous  wood-engraver,  1 753-1 828.  His  'History  of 
British  Birds '  contains  some  of  his  best  work. 

Page  285.  Phoebe  Jennings :  presumably  the  name  of  the  landlady  of 
some  public  house  in  the  neighbourhood. 

Page  287.    kestrel :  a  kind  of  hawk. 

Page  288.  fidus  Achates :  '  faithful  Achates,'  in  Virgil's  ^neid,  is 
the  friend  of  i4Lneas.    The  phrase  has  become  proverbial. 

bottling  the  s-vipes :  an  old  Rugbeian  of  the  period  has  recorded 
a  School-house  recipe  for  this  process.  The  beer  was  poured  into  a 
bottle  containing  '  a  dessert-spoonful  of  powdered  rice,  the  same  of 
brown  sugar,  half  a  salt-spoon  of  powdered  ginger,  and  finally  two 
raisins.'  When  the  raisins  rose  to  the  top,  it  showed  that  the  ale  was 
fit  to  drink. 

Caldecott's  Spinney :  a  small  wood  in  the  Avon  valley  a  little  below 
Rtigby ;  it  was  called  after  the  neighbouring  landowner  of  the  time. 

Page  289.    Aganippe :   a  bathing  pool  in  the  Avon  near  Caldecott's 
Spinney.    It  was  named  after  the  fountain  on  Mt.  Helicon  in  Boeotia, 
sacred  to  the  Muses,  and  was  used  by  the  upper  forms  in  the  school. 
in  the  consulship  of  Plancus :  see  note  on  p.  428. 
vulgus  :  '  the  common  task.'    It  is  explained  on  p.  290. 

[436] 


NOTES 

Williajn  of  Wykehain :  a  famous  prelate  and  statesman  in  the 
time  of  Edward  III,  who  founded  Winchester  College  (the  oldest  of 
English  public  schools)  and  New  College,  Oxford. 

Page  290.  if  the  tradition  has  gone  on  till  now :  the  vulgus  has 
long  become  a  thing  of  the  past ;  '  copies,'  or  exercises  into  Latin 
and  Greek,  are  always  pieces  of  English  prose  or  verse. 

Page  291.  elegiac  lines :  a  favourite  Latin  metre,  consisting  of  coup- 
lets of  '  hexameter  '  (a  verse  with  six  feet)  and  'pentameter'  (a  verse 
with  five  feet). 

Page  293.   experto  crede :  'believe  me  who  have  tried  it.' 

CHAPTER  IV 

Page  297.  pecking-bag :  a  strong  bag  for  carrying  stones  for  throwing 
at  birds,  or  '  pecking.' 

Page  300.  came  down  like  a  lamplighter :  in  the  days  when  street 
Hghts  were  oil  lamps,  the  lamplighter  with  his  ladder  was  a  familiar 
sight,  and  the  expression  became  proverbial. 

Page  302.  quickset :  a  quickset  hedge  is  a  thick  hedge  in  which  the 
bushes  which  form  it  are  '  set  quick  '  (that  is,  planted  alive). 

Page  304.  Co))ie  back,  come  back :  a  guinea-fowl's  cry  is  just  like 
these  words. 

Page  306.  shout  '  On  '  .•  if  a  fag  when  '  out  of  bounds '  saw  a  prae- 
postor, he  had  to  hide  or  run  away  until  the  latter  shouted  'On'; 
he  was  then  free  to  go  on  with  what  he  was  doing.  If  the  call  was 
'Back,'  he  had  to  come  and  answer  for  himself.  The  custom,  long 
since  obsolete,  was  called  '  shirking.' 

CHAPTER  V 

Page  311.  Surgebat  Macnevisius :  from  verses  in  dog-Latin  in  the 
Eton  school  paper.  '  Macnevisius  rose  up  and  soon  cried  out  right 
readily.  For  your  sake  I  will  fight  this  bold  Mactwolter.' 

BelVs  Life:  the  popular  sporting  paper  of  the  time,  in  which 
prize-fights  were  recorded. 

Page  312.  Russians,  or  Border-ruffians :  the  Crimean  War  and  the 
'  border  war '  of  the  settlement  of  Kansas  were  recent  events  when 
Hughes  wrote.  Hughes,  of  course,  sympathized  with  the  anti-slavery 
party  in  Kansas. 

[437] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

Page  313.    The  shell :  see  note  on  p.  428. 

whole  school-day :  on  Monday,  Wednesday,  and  Friday,  lessons 

were  (and  are)  given  in  the  afternoon ;  the  other  three  afternoons 

are  half-holidays. 
Page  3 1 4.    nem.  con.  :  nemine  conttadicente  (no  one  speaking  against 

the  motion). 
Page  31  5.    oAAa  (tu  etc. :  'Then  wouldst  thou  soothe  such  and  refrain 

them,  by  the  gentleness  of  thy  spirit  and   by  thy  gentle  words ' 

(Iliad  XXIV,  771-772). 
Page  317.   Slogger:  'to  slog'  is  slang  for  'to  hit  hard.' 
Page  321.  peels  well:  looks   in  good   condition   when   he  takes  his 

clothes  off  (a  phrase  from  the  boxing-ring). 

tuck  :  eatables  bought  from  shops.    The  commonest  modern  slang 

word  is  '  stodge.' 
Page  322.    thunder-ajid-lightning  waistcoat :  a  waistcoat  with  a  bright 

streaky  pattern. 
Page  325.    W^e've got  the  last :  we  can  hold  out  longest.  Cf.  p.  362. 
Page  327.    his  sponge  will  soon  go  up  :  the  signal  from  the  '  second' 

that  his  man  gave  up  the  fight. 
go  to  Bath  :  a  proverbial  slang  expression  meaning  '  get  out  of 

the  wav,'  '  make  yourself  scarce.'    Originally  it  meant  'you  are  mad,' 

for  the  insane  as  well  as  the  sick  used  to  go  to  Bath  for  treatment. 
Page  330.  gravelled:  at  a  loss  for  an  answer:  the  phrase  comes  from 

a  ship  being  '  gravelled '  when  she  runs  aground. 
Page  332.    Eveti   Thackeray:    he  is  apparently  alluding  to  a  sketch 

called  '  Mr.  and  ]\Irs.  Frank  Berry '  in  the  first  part  of  which  he 

describes  '  The  fight  at  Slaughter  House '  (that  is,  Charterhouse). 

CHAPTER  VI 

Page  335.  the  twetity :  the  form  next  below  the  Sixth;  so  called 
because  originally  it  was  limited  to  the  number  twenty. 

Page  336.  Marylebone  match :  the  Marylebone  Cricket  Club,  in 
London,  '  the  M.  C.  C.,'  is  the  oldest  cricket  club  and  legislates  for 
the  game.  This  match  was  the  great  event  of  the  season  before 
inter-school  matches  were  introduced. 

Page  337.  When  I  came :  the  passage  is  from  a  sermon  preached  by 
Dr.  Arnold  in  October,  1835. 

[438] 


NOTES 

Page  339.  on  Monday :  our  grandfathers  were  rather  vague  about 
medical  matters.  It  would  be  no  easy  matter  to  name  a  dangerous 
fever  which  in  spite  of  '  several  cases '  was  not  infectious ;  and  it 
makes  one  wonder  to  hear  that  Arthur,  after  a  desperate  illness 
culminating  in  a  '  crisis '  on  the  tenth  day,  is  lying  on  a  sofa  by  the 
open  window  on  the  thirteenth  day  '  almost  well,'  and  travels  the 
next  day  in  an  open  carriage ! 
Page  340.  pie-match :  a  pie-match  was  a  match  at  the  end  of  which 

the  losers  had  to  give  the  winners  a  '  feed.' 
Page  341.    the  twenty-two :  the  twenty-two  players  next  best  to  the 
first  eleven. 

dot  and  go  one :  the  expression  describes  the  gait  of  a  man  with 
a  wooden  leg,  which  makes  the  dot. 
Page  344.    Don't  gammon  :  don't  talk  nonsense. 

*  Billy  Taylor '  .•  a  very  popular  song  of  the  period. 
Page  350.    in  Ezekiel :  chap.  i. 
Page  354.   combes  :  deep,  narrow  valleys. 

cairngorm :   a  kind  of  yellow  quartz  found  about  Cairngorm,  a 
mountain  in  Scotland. 

Tors :  a  name  given  to  the  rocky  tops  of  hills  on  Dartmoor. 
Page  355.    Tom's  wicket:  when  he  was  playing  cricket  for  practice. 
slow  twisters  :  slow  balls  that  twist  when  they  pitch  on  the  ground. 
Surrey  heroes :  Surrey  was  one  of  the  earliest  counties  to  take 
up  cricket. 

CHAPTER  VII 

Page  357.    would  have  had  the  sack :  would  have  been  expelled. 
Page  358.    old  Momus :  the  nickname  of  some  master.    Momus  was 
the  Greek  god  of  fault-finding. 

locus  poenitentiae :  an  opportunity  for  repenting  (of  his  resolve). 
Page  360.  you  Goth :  the  Goths  were  a  barbarian  tribe  who  invaded 
the  Roman  Empire  and  under  Alaric  sacked  Rome  in  410. 

churchwarden  windows :  churchwardens  are  parish  officials  part 
of  whose  duty  is  to  look  after  the  fabric  of  the  church.  In  the  days 
before  the  revival  of  interest  in  Gothic  architecture  they  often  made 
very  ugly  and  unsuitable  repairs  and  alterations ;  hence  this  phrase. 
Sheridan  Knowles :  a  well-known  dramatist  of  the  period,  whose 
works  have  already  passed  into  oblivion. 

[  439  ] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

Page  362.  came  Old  of  Egypt :  that  is,  renounced  his  old  ways 
(alluding  to  the  Exodus  of  the  Israelites  from  Egypt). 

a  snob :  the  word  generally  means  an  under-bred  person  who 
pretends  to  be  well-bred :  but  here  East  uses  it  as  a  term  of  general 
contempt ;  a  modern  boy  would  say  '  a  rotter.' 

Page  363.  under  the  line :  it  is  a  stringent  rule  in  boxing  that  no 
one  is  to  hit  '  below  the  belt.' 

Page  364.  to  hold  a  grampus :  a  grampus  is  a  sea  animal,  like  a  por- 
poise but  larger.    It  is  now  commonly  called  '  killer,'  or  '  killer  whale.' 

Page  369.  confirmed:  after  'confirmation'  by  a  bishop  a  person  be- 
comes a  full  member  of  the  Anglican  Church. 

Page  371.  uncovenanfed  mercies :  the  mercies  of  God  toward  those 
outside  the  covenant,  that  is,  not  members  of  the  Church. 

Page  373.  the  great  grifn  tnan  :  Dr.  Arnold's  nickname  in  the  school 
was  '  Black  Tom.' 

CHAPTER  VIII 

Page  376.  the  Crimea  and  distant  India  :  the  Crimean  War  was  from 
1853  to  1856;  the  very  hard-fought  Sikh  wars,  from  1845  to  1849; 
and  wars  in  Sind  and  Burma  in  1842  and  1852. 

Page  377.  our  own  Rugby  poet :  Arthur  Hugh  Clough,  1819-1861. 
He  was  in  the  School-house  from  1829  to  1837;  he  was  a  great 
friend  of  Matthew  Arnold  the  poet,  son  of  Dr.  Arnold. 

Page  378.  exhibitions :  scholarships  given  by  the  school  to  boys  who 
are  going  to  the  Universities. 

IVellesburn  :  a  village  near  Stratford  on  Avon. 
Lord's  giound :    the  ground  of  the  M.  C.  C.   in  London.     See 
note  on  Marylebone  match  (p.  438). 

Page  379.    old   Mr.   Aislabie :    Benjamin    Aislabie    was    Honorary- 
Secretary  of  the  M.  C  C.  from   1822  to  1841. 
the  Three  Trees :  see  note  on  p.  437. 
BelTs  Life :  see  note  on  p.  437. 

Page  380.  Lawrence  Sheriff:  a  native  of  Rugby.  He  migrated  to 
London,  where  he  set  up  a  grocer's  shop  and  prospered  under 
Queen  Elizabeth.  He  left  property  to  found  a  school  in  his  native 
place  in  i  567. 

Page  38 1 .  took  their  places  at  the  wicket :  the  account  of  the  cricket 
match  which  follows  is  naturally  full  of  technical  term.s,  which  will 

[440] 


NOTES 

be  familiar  to  those  who  know  the  game  and  will  remain  a  mystery 

to  those  who  have  never  seen  it,  in  spite  of  any  explanation  which 

can  be  offered  on  paper.    I  shall  therefore  not  attempt  to  give  one. 

The  game  has  developed  in  many  ways  since  the  days  of  Tom 

Brown,  but  is  the  same  in  all  essentials. 
Page  383.    slow  cobs:  the  term  'cob'  has  disappeared  in  cricket;  it 

meant  a  ball.    '  Cob  '  is  an  old  word  for  a  round  lump. 
toppi7tg:  a  slang  word  for  'splendid.' 
Page  388.    stumps  must  be  drawn  :   the  wickets  are  pulled  out  to 

show  that  the  game  is  over. 
Page  389.    m  s ma// gardens :  see  note  on  is/atid fagging  (^.  427). 

turf-cart:  at  the  time  of  'island  fagging,'  fags  used  to  cut  turf 

in  the  neighbouring  fields  and  haul  it  to  the  island  in  a  small  cart. 
Page  393.    such  a  defeat  is  a  victory :  in  Tom  Hughes'  last  match, 

played  in  the  Close  on  June  17,  1841,  the  M.  C.  C.  won  by  sixteen 

runs  in  the  first  innings,  the  School  at  the  end  of  the  day  wanting 

fourteen  runs  with  one  wicket  to  fall. 
Page  394.    snuggery  :  a  snug,  comfortable  living  room. 

a  dripping-cake :  a  cake  made  with  dripping  (fat  that  drips  off  a 

joint  of  beef  when  it  is  being  roasted)  instead  of  butter. 
Page  395.    King's  Co/lege  Chape/ :  one  of  the  most  beautiful  buildings 

in  Cambridge  University. 

Nestor:    the  oldest  of  the  heroes  who   led   the  Greeks  at  the 

siege  of  Troy. 
Page  400.    Thomas  Carly/e  himse/f :  he  alludes  to  Carlyle's  famous 

lectures  on  '  Heroes  and  Hero-worship.' 
Page  402.    was  iti  the  train  :  the  line  from  London  to  Birmingham, 

passing  by  Rugby,  was  built  in  1839.    The  first  train  on  it  went  at 

twenty  miles  an  hour. 

CHAPTER  IX 

Page  404.    the  heathery  scrub  which   tnet  the  shingle :    the  rough 
heather-covered  ground  coming  down  to  the  pebbly  beach. 

Corn  Laws:  the  Corn  Laws  were  laws  which  imposed  duties 
on  all  grain  entering  the  country;  the  object  was  to  benefit  the 
agricultural  interest  by  keeping  up  the  price  of  corn.  They  were 
naturally  very  unpopular  in  the  manufacturing  districts,  and  were 
finally  abolished  in  1846. 

r  441  ] 


TOM    BROWN'S    SCHOOL-DAYS 

the  Goodwood :  a  famous  horse-race  run  at  Goodwood  in  Sussex. 

drawn  :  withdrawn  from  the  entry. 

amiss  :  not  in  good  condition. 
Page  407.    the  Caledonian  Canal :  this  canal  forms  a  great  waterway 
across  Scotland  by  linking  the  lochs  which  lie  in   the  great  rift 
between  the  Firth  of  Lome  and  the  Moray  Firth. 

Under  the  altar  in  the  chapel :  the  present  chapel  is  larger  than 
the  old  one,  and  Arnold's  grave  lies  at  the  foot  of  the  chancel  steps, 
marked  by  a  plain  stone  engraved  with  his  name.  He  is  the  only 
head  master  buried  in  the  chapel,  for  the  vaults  which  he  had  caused 
to  be  made  were  afterwards  closed. 
Page  408.  the  gadfly  in  the  Greek  legends :  the  allusion  is  to  the 
story  of  lo,  who,  being  beloved  by  Zeus,  was  changed  by  Hera  into 
a  heifer  and  pursued  by  a  gadfly. 
Page  411.  the  great  painted  window  above  the  altar :  it  was  brought 
by  Dr.  Arnold  from  Aerschot  in  Belgium  at  a  time  when  that  parish 
was  selling  some  of  the  stained  glass  in  order  to  raise  funds  to 
restore  the  church  —  the  church  which  the  Germans  have  now 
destroyed.  It  is  a  beautiful  sixteenth-century  window  representing 
the  Adoration  of  the  Magi. 

who  bore  his  name :  Matthew  Arnold's  beautiful  poem  '  Rugby 
Chapel,'  which  is  the  finest  of  all  tributes  to  his  father's  memory, 
was  written  in  November,  1857,  the  year  that  'Tom  Brown'  was 
published. 


[442  J 


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